


In Security

by drunkdragon



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Coming of Age, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dom/sub, F/M, a side of humor, discovering you have children via time travel and they're older than you, keeping it a secret from everyone else
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 17:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9247451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkdragon/pseuds/drunkdragon
Summary: Loneliness and frustration were not new feelings for Robin, but he never thought he would expect it at Chrom's wedding. Except he's never really alone because Tharja is always watching him and things suddenly become a whole lot more complicated between the two of them.





	1. Voyeurism

The wedding was a madhouse. The food was amazing, the revelry without bounds. Ale flowed by the barrel, and it was, as he was told by Vaike, the good ale. There was nary a frown on a face and instead everyone danced and sang. And though it was supposed to be a more formal event, few of the soldiers, and especially the Shepherds, cared and they belched and laughed loudly and ate with smacking lips.

It was a party, and rightfully so. Lord Chrom had married Sumia, the woman he deemed to be the love of his life, and everyone, _everyone_ was having a good time because of it.

Honestly, Robin should have been happier. He knew he should have, and he tried to. He was usually a happy person and he was sure that had things been different he would have been fairly happy. But it wasn't exactly easy to push aside his frustrations. More than half of the people in this room probably wouldn't have seen victory if it hadn't been for his planning and outside of the Shepherds few recognized him for his contributions. Aside from Ricken he was the next shortest male in the room and in their drunken stupor more than one person had spilled their ale onto the first set of clothes he could officially call his (his tally so far was four and the last one actually went all over his head, so his blonde hair now smelled like it). Finally he wasn't even old enough to legally drink so he didn't even know what good ale was.

He tried to have a good time. Really, he did. His best friend just got married, Ylisse was victorious in their second war against Plegia, and ultimately, considering his memory loss and being thrust into a position of war, he was alive. Alive was good, most of the time.

Still, his saving grace was that at least he was honestly inclined not to drink after seeing Vaike getting so "hammered", as they put it, that he was trying to strong-arm an uncomfortable Libra into dancing with him while attempting to grope at his non-existent breasts. Miriel was probably going to have a stern talk with her husband the next day, most likely also asking Vaike to describe the feelings and sensations of unintentional homoeroticism.

Thinking of Miriel made him give a sigh that he couldn't even hear over the din at a growing fact that he found difficult to accept.

Almost everyone in the Shepherds had found some sort of partnership, and he was partly responsible. War had forged incredible bonds between many of them, and relationships had sprouted. And he was happy for them. These people deserved companionship. The only ones who seemed to be happy to be in lack of a relation was Libra, Frederick, and Gregor. The priest chose a path of celibacy (or was trying to. Vaike might be so drunk that he somehow gets to him), Gregor felt he was just a little too old for them, and Frederick was a stalwart machine.

And now that the fighting was over and initial thanking and praising had passed by, much of the Shepherds were focusing on their significant other, hugging, kissing, and generally expressing endearment for the most part. True, Chrom had personally given him a toast, but tonight was his and Sumia's night, and there was no way anyone would steal the spotlight from the two.

Who would even be interested in him? Everyone was quite a bit older by several years. And taller. He didn't like being looked down upon, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't enjoy having to look upward at whoever his lover would be.

And he didn't want Lissa. That girl blew it with too many frogs in his cloak. Granted, he probably also blew it when, since it was his turn to cook, he decided to serve everyone frog legs for dinner to spite her. Besides, after they found Donnel no one could seem to get her to willingly leave his side.

In fact, his only real hope was when they found Nowi. Here was a girl shorter than he was, who seemed to have little care when it came to dressing properly, and with a personality that for all its spritely perks was endearing. She was also very attractive.

And she could turn into a dragon. Somehow, and for the life of him he couldn't exactly figure out why, that was kind of hot. Maybe it was the luster of her scales or the shape of her snout or her sharp talons. It didn't make any sense, but somehow her anthropomorphic abilities made him realize how enrapturing she was.

Until she picked Ricken.

Ricken! The boy was even _shorter_ than he was and somehow Robin lost to him! He didn't even get to choose her. The two just started to follow the other around and he could see it in how they interacted despite his efforts. It was natural and it seemed to progress to the point where one day the girl had clearly marked her territory after Chrom declared his engagement to Sumia.

The last thing he heard from the two that day was Ricken trying to explain what it meant to be a husband and wife to the manakete. He even tried to be correct in his use of wordage, but Nowi seemed to both pick up exactly what was being said while only hearing what she wanted to hear.

_"Wait, so if you're my husband and I'm your wife, we could have all the sex we want? No strings attached? And we get to make little manakete babies? What are we WAITING for?"_

She hadn't even let him finish a proper response before she dragged him off to his tent. The next morning there were more than just a few knowing smiles aimed at the two. Ricken's face was aflame in red while Nowi merely seemed to take it in stride, taking every opportunity to kiss and embarrass the boy.

More than once he had found himself a little bitter towards his shorter comrade. It certainly didn't help that Ricken found it necessary, perhaps in his attempt to come to terms with his sudden but pleasant relationship, to describe the feeling of her forked tongue invading the depths of his mouth. But he pushed it off. It wasn't professional, and more importantly it wasn't right as an officer.

Still, on an evening like this, where it painfully reminded him that he didn't have a close relationship like that with anyone with the opposite gender, it was hard to be truly happy. And with all the love floating around in the air, he could feel his own jealousy and fleshly desires swimming within him.

So he decided that he was going to go to his room and do what he was sure every frustrated, lonely, horny, young teenage male virgin (at least he assumed he was a virgin) would have done in his position.

Masturbate.

He got up and left the banquet hall. No one seemed to notice him leaving, and he was okay with that, and besides, all the revelry was not helping him with his sour mood and neither was he really contributing to it. He began the small trek up to his quarters in the north wing of the barracks. His room was a little more private than the other soldiers. And he appreciated that, especially now that he wanted to be alone for a little while, both out of pity and for want of solitude. He would just do it quick and then try to rest. It usually helped him fall asleep anyway.

Unlocking the door to his room, he swiftly entered and turned the bolt shut, jostling the door to make sure that it would not be easily forced open. He wasted no time in moving towards his bed in the corner of the room, but he paused for a moment. Normally he would have flopped onto his and started, but his clothes still stank of ale. That was the last thing he wanted his sheets to smell like, and so he undressed himself entirely before throwing himself on top of the mattress.

And then came to task of figuring what he wanted to masturbate to. Wrapping his fingers around himself, he started to lightly stroke, feeling his length harden and grow as his mind churned. This was often the most difficult part, as he personally felt that it was in poor taste to beat himself off to a woman who he knew was with someone else. Sometimes it was difficult, like when had first met Olivia. She and Lon'qu seemed to have shared some kind of previous relationship, as small as it may be, but he was unable to stop himself from imagining her pink hair and naked body. That outfit she wore did not leave too much to imagination.

But with his own standards came his predicament. Just about everyone in the Shep-

… Well, no, not everyone. He frowned, but did not stop his hand.

Tharja, yet another woman whose outfit revealed much of her skin. Even if it was behind some sort of mesh-like stocking, it hardly made a difference.

Was she the only one left? But… her? Really? That strange woman who always seemed to have a knack of following him? He bit his lip. Sure, she was hot, but she wasn't exactly someone he found himself fantasizing over very much. But she wasn't the worst he could imagine. At least she was somewhat nice to him and only cold to everyone else.

Taking a breath, he closed his eyes. Might as well make the best of it. His grip tightened and he put more effort behind his strokes, imagining that it was her lips and tongue that were on him instead.

* * *

Tharja knew for a fact that she wasn't into young boys. Ricken was annoying and Donnel was only good for fetching ingredients. Younger boys were also curious and couldn't take directions very well. They would ask questions and complain and be rude.

And while it was true that there were no explicit laws against it in the desert nation of Plegia, neither was it a respected practice within it.

Still, there was something about Robin. She had seen it on the day she met the Shepherds in combat. Chrom had his blade pointing at her, demanding that she lower her tome. And she almost did. She had found herself on a battlefield she held no stake in.

But then she saw Robin. His face was marred in anger as his Elthunder tome floated by his side, its pages flipping in motion with his body. His hands cast out with purpose as bolts of lightning smote foe after foe. As short and young as he was, she could already feel the immense power that he seemed to carry. A mage of any kind being in tune with their tome was not uncommon, but to see someone so young attain that level of magic was astonishing. It was a feat that mages often achieved in their twenties.

She managed to do it at nineteen, but still. There was power in him. A _lot_ of power. It was a dark, ancient, icky power that made her skin crawl, and it took a lot to make a dark mage of her caliber get goose bumps. And ever since the night that Chrom announced his marriage to the company, it had slowly gotten ickier, so much to the point that she was sure he could wield dark magic without batting an eyelash. She wasn't even sure if he was aware of it.

Tharja liked icky.

Following Robin was as natural to her as the moon following the sun. It was just something that happened. She wanted to know everything there was about this young boy. His favorite color was a purple that was a shade lighter than usual. He enjoyed playing chess when he had the time for it. His favorite food was liver and eel pie (a dish of Plegian origin, she noted).

But she never forgot the first night she hid in his tent. She used an invisibility hex to render herself undetectable and waited. She had been tailing his schedule prior and knew that he would turn in soon. And like clockwork he appeared two minutes and forty-three seconds after she entered.

It was new territory. She could feel her heart beating in her throat and ears. But she had never imagined she would be so lucky as to see the boy remove his pants and smallclothes before lying on the bed to let himself harden, his length sticking up against the cool night air.

And when he – _oh yeeeesss_ – started to move his hand up and down his shaft, seeing his eyes shut in concentration, she felt herself bite her lip in anticipation. Who was he thinking of? What was happening? How many people were involved?

And then there was that little exhale. Not the soft heaves that he gave, but rather the tiniest of whimpers. His pace increased and his eyebrows furrowed while his cheeks flushed a bit, his short blonde hair sometimes sticking to his forehead. Her heart beat so loudly that she was sure he would hear it.

Shortly after, she was rewarded with the sight of his seed spurting out of him. One, two, a third, then a half and a fourth and final shot, the strands landing against the bare of his stomach and she found herself smirking at the sight of it. He paused there for a moment to catch his breath, his cum glistening in the candlelight before he reached for a small red handkerchief to wipe it off.

From then on, Tharja did her best to sneak into Robin's tent at night before he slept. On any given night there was an eighty-four percent chance he would masturbate (rather low for one his age, she believed, but she made no fuss about it). The average length of the practice was three minutes and twenty-three seconds. He favored his left hand, which was not his dominant hand. His right hand would scrunch and grasp at the sheets beneath him, perhaps pretending it was a breast that he was fondling. He would shoot out about four times usually when he came. And about seventy-two percent of the time afterward, Robin would move under the covers to fall asleep after cleaning himself. About seven percent of the time he fell asleep without doing so.

And sometimes, coming in at a low two percent (and much to her glee and viewing pleasure), he would try and masturbate a second time with vastly different numbers and percentages.

But she was never privy to what it was he thought about. She could put numbers and values in anything that was a quantifiable observation, but she wanted to know what was in his head, what fantasies his mind played when his little habit started and ended.

And so when she felt Robin's icky aura get even worse as the night went on, she knew that she had to know. Grabbing a quick bite from the table, she quickly made her way to his room, hexed the lock open, and entered and relocked it before hiding away in his room, patiently waiting for him to arrive.

Not long after, he opened the door and just as quickly shut and locked it. She began to hold her breath and almost had to pinch herself when she saw that he removed all of his clothes, not just his pants, before throwing himself on top of his bed.

It was an entirely new experience, seeing his upper body rise and flex as he played with himself. She could barely see the tiniest sheen of sweat, reflecting the soft light of the crescent moon that peered in through the open window. So lost in the moment did she almost miss that little cry he tended to give off ninety-two percent of the time. Her eyes refocused on his cock just in time to see him cum onto his lower body.

A particular moment that always made her smirk.

The white liquid settled at his waist. He closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell, though she could tell that he wasn't quite sleeping yet. Though it often put him to rest, he had that habit of cleaning himself off first. He had only failed to do so four times.

Still, it was time to act. With a quick wave of her hands her hex slowly began to fall away, pieces of her body beginning to materialize as if out of thin air and she felt her lips move.

* * *

The moment came and went in a spasm of muscles and Robin felt himself draw a deep breath. Though Tharja was certainly alluring, she wasn't exactly the easiest to get off on. Something in his mind kept saying how she had her strange habits that got in the way of his… ahem, enjoyment.

Still, now that the moment had come and gone, he found that with it usually came a dose of clarity. It was a sense of nothingness, a feeling that all his problems were going to sort themselves out.

He was young! He was going to find someone eventually. He needed to stop worrying about who he was going to spend the rest of his life with and focus on the friends who he was spending time with right now, relationships and sexing be damned. He didn't really _need_ pussy right now, as some members of the Shepherds so aptly put it. It was just a nice perk.

Ricken could go jump in a lake though. Granted he would be there to help when his short mage friend needed it in the end, but he could bask in just being a little bitter for now. He'd get over it eventually.

B-But aside from Ricken's particular case, there was absolutely nothing wrong with being patient.

Robin felt a yawn come up and let it out. Masturbating had a tendency to make him tired. But something felt weird. It was like his body was more lethargic than normal, refusing to obey him and instead being content to rest. It was as if he was paralyzed by tiredness.

Maybe he would forego the sheets. It's not like the door wasn't locked anyway. He had made sure of it when he bolted it shut and gave it a few jostles to make sur-

"So who did you beat off to this time?"

Robin could have sworn his heart stopped.


	2. Fantasies

"Gods, what-!"

Much to Tharja's surprise, the first thing Robin did after staring at her in horrid realization was immediately duck under the sheets, hastily covering himself before backing against the wall next to the bed. He had reflexively shrugged off her hex like it was second nature and moved against her will. Initially she recoiled, but slowly she found herself excitedly smiling at the prospect.

She couldn't control him with mere hexes. This would explain why a good majority of her stronger and less subtle enchantments on him had little to no effect. If he realized it or had a strong reaction that forced him to act contrary to what the spell permitted, he would break free. If she were to use something on him, he would have to either willfully accept it or it would need to be so subtle that he didn't realize the spell was cast on him until it had fully taken root. There was the last option of casting a hex so powerful that he could not fight it off, but that was something that she doubted she would want to put on him.

A challenge.

His head finally popped out from beneath the blankets, blushing hard and staring at her painfully, like he had been violated. "Tharja, what are you doing here?"

He was afraid of her smile, and it only made her lips curl even more. "This is my room, Tharja! Why are you in here?" he yelled.

This also meant that unfortunately, getting the truth out of him would not be easy. She needed something more powerful than just mere words unlike most subjects. The next course of action was to obtain an object that could have been considered the essence of the person. It was perhaps a toy that they loved to play with or a trinket that they held dear to his or her heart. Something that carried a deep and important connection to the person.

And she knew exactly what she wanted to use.

"H-How did you even get into my room?"

She ignored the question for now. Instead, she turned her head, her eyes still locked on his as she sauntered over to his desk. Very slowly, she opened a drawer that she had seen him open countless times. Her hand slinked in and grasped the corner of that handkerchief, that piece of cloth he used to clean himself up with and slowly pulled it out, finally turning her gaze from him to inspect it.

Her words and actions finally hit him and a gasp came from his throat. "You… Y-You've seen me before… haven't you?"

She couldn't see much of it in the pale moonlight, preventing her from inspecting it closely. But she could sense other things. It smelled of lavender and the handkerchief was soft to the touch, but there were sharp creases and folds and the edges held their shape well. He was obviously taking care of the piece of cloth carefully to make sure no one knew what it was for, perhaps even washing it after every use.

It was absolutely perfect.

* * *

The way Tharja stared at the piece of cloth greatly concerned him. She knew what it was for. She had to have known that he used it to wipe the cum from his body after he masturbated. And the only way she could have known was if she had seen him use it, which meant that this wasn't the first time she had intruded on him.

Her hands softly traced the cloth, feeling its surface and turning it over, leaving none of it unchecked. Slowly, she moved over to the far corner of his bed and sat on it and he felt himself reflexively tuck himself away further into the corner of the wall.

Her eyes seemed to glisten in the darkness a little, maybe even glowing.

"So who did you beat off to tonight?"

Before he could think of an answer, his lips opened of his own accord.

"You."

His hand immediately flew to his mouth and he felt his eyes widen in disbelief. His cheeks burned hot as Tharja, visibly shocked at his answer, turned to him in surprise. Her lips, however, then curled into an even larger smile and he suddenly felt like he wanted to lump up into a ball and die in the protection of his blankets, as ineffective and impossible as the thought would have been. He attempted to shrink into the corner even more, hoping that the wall would simply open up and swallow him.

"Me, was it?"

Her hand that held the handkerchief suddenly went low to her lap, the cloth sitting atop her thighs. Perhaps she had lost interest in it, he hoped, but instead she turned her gaze away, looking at the ceiling and leaned back, her other arm supporting her weight. In spite of the dim lighting, he could see every contour and curve of her. The mesh clothing on her skin suddenly felt invisible, leaving only the cape around her shoulders and the solid strips of cloth blocking the more intimate parts of her body.

He tried to shake the thoughts away. This was the last thing he ought to be entertaining himself with. She had intruded on him! Watched him in his most private moments and seen him- his-

"I wonder," the words rolled slowly off of her tongue, "what did you have me do?"

She painstakingly dragged the cloth up across her body and his throat went dry. He didn't have to be watching her face to hear her smile, to know her gaze was once again upon him. "Perhaps I approached you?" the handkerchief dragged up past her flat stomach and stopped between her breasts. "Begged you for sexual release?"

"Or maybe you forced yourself upon me and made me obey your every burning desire?"

She was pleased that she had so aptly caught his attention with such a simple movement.

"Did you have me struggle? Or was I eager and complacent, more than happy to oblige with your wishes, to become your plaything for the night?"

She turned away from him before lying flat on her back, the red cloth splayed on her chest. She was suddenly closer to him, her head close to his feet, and yet he found himself unbidden to hide or push her away.

"Tell me."

It wasn't even a command, merely and inquiry, and yet he found his lips parting again to speak.

"I had you use your mouth."

Her cursed lips parted and her tongue peeked out, a small, small triangle of flesh, and slowly ran it across her upper lip and he shivered.

"Continue. Was I good?"

"You were relentless and I… I came down your throat. Then I pulled your head back and sprayed the rest on your chest."

She gave a low moan and her eyes closed. She let go of the cloth, dragging a finger up her neck and liking the tip. The implication was not lost upon Robin.

"Then what happened? Did I clean up the mess, swallowing all of your cum?"

"I didn't let you," his voice became firm. "I pushed you down, s-spread your legs and… and-"

"And?" she said without condemnation, without shame.

His lips moved to part and he tried to bite it closed.

"Won't you tell me?" her legs slowly spread apart and her other hand drifted to the inside of her thigh. "Won't you describe how you fucked me?"

This time he opened his mouth on his own accord, voice becoming uncertain. His hand went to cover his eyes. "Why am I telling you this, Tharja?" His voice wavered and the small beginnings of a lump started to form in the back of his throat. Great. Now his anger turned to shame and he felt like he was going to cry, like she was almost scolding him. "Gods, this is so stupid."

She slowly sat back up, clutching the cloth to her chest, holding it tight like it was suddenly precious to her before turning to him. "Because I've been following you, watching your every move."

"Yes, I know. We've…" he tried to breathe and calm down. He didn't want to cry here. Not in front of her after all this, after he somehow laid everything in front of her in the most vulnerable of situations. He didn't want a pity party. "We've had that conversation before." Gods, if only he knew how far she-

"And I know that deep down inside, you crave a relationship with the opposite sex and all that comes with it."

His eyes snapped up, suddenly focused on her. "What makes you feel that way?" All thoughts of fear and self-pity left him and was replaced with apprehension.

She merely smiled, and stood up. "That's not important," she stared at him. "What is important is that I can provide you with one, but it's not going to be what you have in mind."

"W-What do you mean?" he was sure he sounded more eager than he wanted to be.

"Heh heh," she gave a small chuckle. "You'll see tomorrow. I'm sure you'll want to learn more."

She started to make her way to the door, and he was so very sure that she was purposely putting one foot in front of the other to make her hips sway just a little bit.

"Oh," her right hand held out the red handkerchief and she turned over her shoulder to look at him. He felt his face cheeks burn again under her smiling gaze. "I'll be holding onto this for now. And don't worry. Your fantasy is safe with me."

And just as suddenly she appeared, she slipped out the door and left his room.

His body did not move for a moment, still hiding beneath his blankets.

Then it registered in his mind that the door was not locked. In sharp realization he threw them off and dashed over to the door, making sure that the bolt was tucked away and shook the door fiercely. It did not budge, proof that it was finally locked and he stepped back, panting a little.

Gods, that woman! What did she have planned for him? As if he would want to be in a relationship with her after she so brazenly watched him as he was masturbating! This was the dumbest idea he had ever heard coming from her lips! This was even worse than when she suggested casting an attraction hex on him to make fighting female soldiers easier.

Why did she single him out, of all of the Shepherds? What did she see in him? He was short, young, and not even "legal", as Sully so aptly put it.

Why did she go after him? And why… why did…

Why did he have an erection?


	3. Experience

Robin needed to find Tharja.

It was the sole thought that occupied his mind through the sleepless night and much of the day. He had tried to take a cold bath early in the morning, dumping bucket after bucket of water from a nearby river over his head. It got the ale smell out of his hair, but offered little comfort by itself.

He then attempted to study, poring over his tomes and trying to absorb the battle formations and strategies of wars past. But his thoughts refused to stay put, wandering around and drifting back to trying to solve why Tharja would do all of this to him. Was it out of spite for defeating her homeland? The woman didn't seem to be the patriotic type.

He had even tried to tackle Frederick's rigorous obstacle course, of which the first challenge after a two-hundred yard sprint was a nine-foot high brick wall, more than twice his height, with no handholds. It wasn't a difficult issue. If he ran at it fast enough and carefully jumped and measured the force he exerted against it with his feet, he could run up it just a tiny little bit and he could grab the top and start to pull himself over.

However, luck would have it that his footing slipped and while he was able to grasp the top and hold onto it, this meant that the rest of his body came into contact with the wall. Normally, this would not have been painful.

However, the moment his persistent erection came into contact against the wall, he gave a cry and let go of the top. His feet hit the ground unevenly and he toppled backward, the landing knocking the wind out of him in a pitiful whimper. It had nearly been a direct blow to the tip, the pain causing him to roll onto his side as he tried to massage the hurting region and regain his breath.

This had to have been the most annoying thing ever to be afflicted with, he thought to himself. It was the sole reason why he had been awake for the whole night and bothered and distracted for the entire day.

It was not normal. He had read some medical manuals before and most described such prolonged, unwanted arousal as painful. But what he experienced was as usual as a persistent erection could be. Beating off felt natural, as he discovered when he tried to solve the issue on his own during his bath, but whenever he came close, somehow the threshold would push itself just a little further. For a while he kept trying, moving faster, and gripping tighter, thinking of anything he considered hot and then throwing them all into one giant orgy. But it was to no avail, finally slamming his hand down with a defeated groan on the top of the water's surface.

For what had to have been the thirtieth time, Robin reminded himself that he _needed_ to find Tharja.

* * *

When Robin finally located her, it was in the place where he last expected it: the mess hall. It's not that Tharja didn't eat, it's just that more often than not she would take her meal to her tent or quarters where she would eat in solitude. Very rarely did she come out to eat with the rest of the Shepherds.

He began to trudge over to where she sat, carefully holding a book across his waist in an attempt to hide his erection. But Tharja seemed to immediately sense his presence as she slowly turned to look at him, that smirk once again on her face. He felt himself pause, wary of continuing forth as her eyes locked onto his. Eventually, however, he worked up his courage and walked the rest of the way to her spot, sitting on the bench to her side.

"So have you given my proposition any thought?" She fiddled with her fork, twirling it around on the half-eaten plate in front of her. Her eyes turned away from him, instead focusing on one of the cream puffs on a plate in front of her.

Straight to business, then. He gave a huff. "Not really. It's hard to think when you've got a…" his cheeks turned a tiny bit pink, "y-you know what you did."

"Why, Robin, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Setting the utensil down, her hand slipped beneath the table, settling on her lap. "Please, tell me, what has been bothering you? I'm sure I can take good care of you."

"Tharja, look. I don't want you to play stupid with me," he tersely said, doing his best to ignore her innuendo. "Why? What do you want to accomplish here?"

"Well, I see that you have a problem and I have an answer." Her hand moved confidently onto his lap and he felt himself freeze. Very slowly it began to trace up and down, her fingers softly digging into his inner thigh, making his body tingle and heart flutter. "I just needed to make sure you'd come back to me."

"And giving me an everlasting boner is your preferred form of persuasion?" he hissed. "What do you want?"

He felt her fingers dig closer to his member and tried to stay calm. "I just see that you've been… upset about a few things, recently," she chuckled. "And I can offer you a solution." She reached forward and grabbed one of the pastries and took a bite out of it, some of the cream gushing out and smudging against her lips.

He tried not to think of his fantasy from last night, especially in front of Tharja. But then she took out that red handkerchief from underneath the cloth that covered her breasts and slowly wiped off the cream. He felt his throat go dry.

She knew what that cloth was for. She had to have known that his cum had been on that rag before and now it looked like she- that she was-

Nonononono. Don't think about it. That wasn't his cum on her lips. That was just cream.

Cream that she was slowly licking off his handkerchief.

He forced himself to speak. "And what… what would you propose?" He tried to be careful with his words. The last thing he wanted was to have Tharja turn them against him.

Her hand traveled upward and he gave a short, uncomfortable yelp when she rubbed a finger up his hardened length.

"Sex." The word smoothly rolled off of her tongue.

Gods, was she serious? "You're kidding me." He turned his distracted stare away from her. The heat in his cheeks was becoming even stronger and he hoped that everyone else was too busy enjoying a nice relaxing dinner to see him being fondled right in front of them.

"It's strange. From a glance you are hardly my type, but… there is something about you that I just can't pull away from." His breathing started to become a little deeper and slower, doing his best to contain the strange sensation of having another person touch his cock. It was so much more different than his hand. It tingled and sent jolts of electricity that made him bite his lip.

"Y-You've been with someone before, right?" he cautiously asked between breaths.

"I've had two real relations in the past, and at one point I was strictly seeing another woman for sex."

"A woman?" the new fact almost made him forgot she was molesting him beneath the table until she gave him another squeeze.

"She taught me everything I needed to know about myself and what I liked. She was quite good as a mistress, too, but we parted ways. I suppose it gave me the opportunity to grow my own skills."

He felt afraid to ask, but he was driven by the need to know. "What exactly did she teach you?" Her fingers curled around him through his pants and he grunted in surprise as she turned to face him.

"Dominating."

A wicked grin curled on her lips and he felt a chill go down his spine with her answer, one that was not related to how a finger had slipped beneath his waist band. He fought to not shudder, but his breath hitched.

"Do…Dominating?"

"I like being in control, having someone willingly powerless before you while you tease and prod away at them. It's quite fun for both parties, usually."

"Fun?" It made no sense to Robin. "Why would someone enjoy having no control during sex?"

"That," her finger was now running side to side along his waist and it was driving him insane with both worry and anxiety, "depends on how good the master is. And I know that right now," her hand was now all the way in his smallclothes, brushing directly against the tip of his member and his body stiffened in reaction, "I want you."

"A-As in, you want to…" he tried to keep his voice low, but he couldn't stop the disbelief in them, "to… to dominate me?"

"Every little bit of you." Her fingers wrapped around his hardened member and gave a light stroke. A quick gasp escaped his lips, but he bit down the rest of it. "What do you say to a trial, hm?"

"This has to be the craziest thing ever," he threw himself on the table, burying his head beneath his arms. "Here you are, molesting me, and you want to offer me a deal."

"I show you how enjoyable it can be and you decide if you want more." He tried to ignore that pulling feeling in his navel when she started to play around with his member even more. "I can make you feel good."

The temptation was real. He had been trying to find the damned woman all day and his erection had more than just bothered him. It frustrated him beyond belief, to know that this particular aspect of him was no longer in his control.

"W-When you dominate," he turned his head to the side, looking into her eyes, "what exactly do you do?"

"It depends on the person and how they like it," she slowly explained. "There are those that want a physical submission. Tied up, a little bit of pain, a sharp lash on the back. Others like me prefer to look for more of a mental submission, obeying my every command."

"That doesn't sound very fun to me…"

Tharja stayed silent for a moment, caressing him as she studied his features. "You've never been with anyone, have you?"

He felt his cheeks burn even hotter. "Yeah, I haven't. I-I'm still a… a virgin." The words tumbled from his mouth with difficulty.

"So come and fix that with me. I'll take care of everything." Her other hand tucked the red handkerchief back into her bosom. "I think you'll like it."

He told himself it was the stupidest idea ever. Tharja was a creepy lady who liked strange things. She used hexes to get what she wanted. She spied on him while he was fapping. Nothing good could really come from a situation like this.

And yet, with slow stroke after slow stroke beneath the table, he found himself buckling. He could feel her fingers becoming just a little slick as they obtained a light coating of precum from his tip. His mind screamed for orgasm, but his body wouldn't let him. Another pull from her, a tighter, faster one, and he felt himself shudder, a strangled moan coming from his lips.

And thus he found himself agreeing.

"A-Alright. Alright. What do we do?"

Her smile was wide, victorious, as she withdrew her hand from his pants. He suddenly found himself sorely missing the contact and he felt that pulling feeling again when she licked the tip of her finger.

"Go to your room."


	4. Skilled Hands

After she told him to head to his quarters, Robin made a straight beeline to his room and began to wait. Questions began to go through his mind the moment he stood up from the bench, hiding his erection as he carefully walked through the castle corridors. What was sex really like? Should he be preparing anything? Was he biting off more than he could chew? Would the fact that he was about to have sex with his stalker make it awkward? Would the size of his dick be too small for her tastes? Did size really matter? Was Tharja really going to remove that hex from him?

And was this supposed "G-spot" real or was Gaius just trying to trick him out of dessert that one night? He had a feeling that the thief was lying because he told him that the G stood for Gaius, which Robin was not buying at all.

But that was more than an hour ago.

Robin had eyed the candles on his desk as the wicks burned while he tried to mentally prepare himself, and by now he was more than antsy. Did she forget? Did she change her mind and suddenly not tell him? Was this all some sort of sick, twisted joke? A part of him still couldn't believe that this was happening, and perhaps that part was winning out.

Gods, Tharja could probably pick him up and plop him into her lap! How was that even remotely sexy?

But then… all that watching and… and touching, why? She couldn't have just been playing around with him, not like that… could it? And the whole idea about dominating someone, what would that entail for him?

Was she _getting rope?_

_No._

No, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not.

Ignore the erection. He needed to get out of there now. Scrambling off of his bed, he quickly moved toward the door. With a quick movement he unlocked it and pulled it open.

He found himself staring at the slightly lower half of a pair of breasts, covered only by mesh, strips of dark fabric, and a tuft of his red handkerchief that stuck out from beneath it.

"Heh, eager, are we Robin?" she walked straight to him and he swore he could feel the body heat radiating from her chest. "I didn't even need to knock on the door."

"Th-Tharja?" his voice went dry as he looked up at her, trying to ignore how suddenly powerless he felt as he struggled to ignore how prominent her chest was from this angle. "W-What took so long?" he backed away from her a little.

Was she preparing another hex for him? Please don't let it be a hex. Or ropes.

"I was still eating dinner. The cream puffs were delicious. I just had to… lick it all up." That smirk came back onto her face, knowing full well that at the mention of the confectionery he was thinking about the red cloth tucked in away in her chest.

"But enough talk," she leaned forward so she was eye level with him and he could not stop himself from looking at her cleavage. "I think it's time for you to see what this is all about." With a quick tap from her foot, she shut the door behind him. A snap from her fingers and Robin felt his eyes widen as the deadbolt slid into place.

Oh gods, this was really going to happen. It couldn't be that bad, right? He didn't see any rope so far and it's not like she could hide things in what she wore. Maybe she was just trying to scare him with all that stuff about ropes and they would instead settle for normal and consensual acts of lovemaking. His heart quickened as she straightened up, that smile still upon her. In the dim candles it seemed long and harsh as a low chuckle came from her lips.

"Leave this to me," her voice was slow, "Turn around and just relax," she ordered.

"Look, Tharja, can't we just... you know, call it off?" he nervously said. She deftly moved towards him and cupped his crotch area, the base of her palm rubbing against his hardened length, making him hiss.

"And leave you like this?" she whispered into his ears. She slinked around his body and his heart pounded against his chest. He swore he felt it in the back of his throat. "Don't be silly."

"But since this is your first time, we'll take this slow." She gently traced her hands onto his shoulder, holding them in a light grasp. His back tensed and he tried to stay calm. "Real slow."

He tried not to freak out over the fact that her boobs were almost on his head. He became aware that he was breathing a little heavier than usual. Was it worry? Anxiety? Her fingers began to slowly trail down the sides of his coat, tracing his arms and her index fingers drawing circles along the cloth and from the heat on his face he could tell that he was blushing hard.

He felt like he wanted to close his eyes, but he tried to remain focused, doing his best to make sure that Tharja wasn't going to pull some kind of surprise on him. But her hands simply continued to trail over his tactician's coat, moving back up his shoulders before grasping the sides of his chest and firmly dragging down. He let out a quick yelp, fighting to keep from twitching from the sensation.

"Heh, just relax, Robin."

And yet he couldn't help but stiffen when he felt her fingers move around to his hips, giving him a momentary but firm squeeze before trailing back up the front of his body to his collar. Her fingers curled around the material and slowly pulled it off, tantalizing his skin in an unfamiliar but good way. Then her hands wound around the front of his chest, one of them stopping above his heart while the other went down into the hem of his pants, stroking his member through the cloth once more. His breathing picked up even faster, now, that toying feeling beginning to drive him insane.

Gods, she had toyed with him for the whole of last night and today, and yet here she was, still playing with him. As enjoyable as the feelings were, a frustrated groan came from his lips. He didn't mean to express unhappiness. It just came naturally, much to his-

"Ah!" he flinched and would have thrown himself from Tharja's grasp had she not been holding onto him. She chuckled at his reaction, her teeth continuing to nip at his left ear before dragging her tongue down his neck.

"S-Sorry," he floundered, feeling his cheeks burn. "I didn't… I was-"

Her ministrations had stopped. "Put your cloak back on."

"What?" Robin sounded more crestfallen than he knew he could, almost whimpering at the loss of contact.

Her hands left his body completely and he turned around, almost bewildered. "It's a simple order." To his annoyance, that smile came up again on her lips. "Put your cloak back on."

"Urgh… fine." Stooping over, Robin picked up the cloak and put it on, turning around so she was behind him again. This time Tharja's hands started at his waist, trailing up and down the sides before circling around his arms and up the shoulders. The rise in his breathing came again and his pants felt tighter than he recalled them to be. That nip returned to his left ear as her hands prowled around him, pulling his cloak off once she was satisfied.

As soon as it touched the ground, she began to feel his shirt beneath it, making sure to spend extra time over Robin's heart and abdomen. It made him twitch and grunt and when Tharja slipped a hand beneath it, touching his skin directly and he stiffened.

"Relax, Robin." She whispered again into his ear before pulling the shirt over his head and off his body. "Follow my lead." A finger went to his lips and trailed straight down the center of his body, leaving what could have been electricity in its waking touch. Without hesitation the hand dove into his waistband and began to touch his hard member again. The other went beneath the clothes as well, this one cupping and squeezing his hips.

He became aware that his hands on his sides were clenching and unclenching with the sensations, and it felt unnatural to him that he was unable to touch her on his own.

"Tharja, I'm just… standing here doing nothing. Should I be doing something?"

He immediately regretted his words when Tharja quickly withdrew her hands from his body.

"Put your shirt back on."

"Wait, why do I-" Robin didn't have to turn around to know she was smirking at him again, but he did anyway. And he was right.

"And now your cloak, too."

He gave the most frustrated groan he could have given off in his life. "AGAIN?" He ignored her command. Was she making fun of him? Teasing him for something beyond sexual purposes? "Why do I have to put my clothes back on?"

Her smile only grew wider. "Heh heh, you still haven't caught on, have you?"

"Caught on to what?"

"Put your clothes back on and I'll tell you."

Robin heaved another sigh before stooping over to pick up his shirt. "I don't like this so far, just so you know." Tossing it on, he grabbed his cloak and threw it over his shoulders, putting his arm through the sleeves. "If this is supposed to feel good, I don't think it's working out for me in the end." He turned around again, his back facing her. "There. Now tell me what you wanted to say, Tharja."

She chuckled and leaned over his ear, hands trailing even slower than the first time. She drew more circles as she went down his arms once more before slowly traveling down towards his waistband, but stopping just short to go back up the inside of his cloak. "It's a simple rule, Robin." As annoyed as he was, he could not deny how tantalizing the slow movements were.

Her fingers pulled the purple material off, exposing his shirt again. "Making noise is okay."

She purposely leaned forward, mashing the top of her breasts against his shoulders and he felt himself stiffen once more, her hands going under his shirt and pulling it off for him. The cold air stung his chest before Tharja's welcome ministrations covered him again, a hand pinching the skin above where his heart was pounding against his flesh.

"Talking isn't." A hand trailed back down below his waistband and into his smallclothes directly. He felt her circle around him, stroking him in the most painfully slow manner possible.

She bit his ear and he whimpered, head leaning back and eyes shut.

So that was her game.

She whispered into his ear, "Good boy." Her hands gathered at his waist again, her thumbs hooking the material and dragging it down little by little. Gravity did the rest of the work and his erect member sprung forth against the cold air, a quick gasp escaping him.

Tharja pulled her hands away and this time she gave another order, kicking away his clothes.

"Kneel."

Robin took a deep breath, shakily letting it out as he went on his knees. He felt Tharja moving down behind him as well and she began to lick and suckle his neck again. Her hand trailed straight down his chest while the other stroked his thighs, silently motioning to spread his legs apart.

When they were far enough, the hand on his thigh trailed up to loosely hold his cock, gently stroking again, fingers trailing over the tip. His breathing came quick once more and his head tilted down.

There was a quick rustle of cloth and he realized that the red handkerchief had been laid out in front of him. Her stroking became harder and a lost moan came from his lips, his heart pounding in the ear Tharja was biting.

* * *

She almost could not believe what was before her. The army's tactician was putty in her hands. His skin was flushed and hot, his mind driven by carnal desire, his kneeling form in front of her, all because she decided that it was time to reveal herself.

A part in the back of her mind knew she was taking advantage of his jealousy and anger, his loneliness and longing. It was wrong to touch someone so young like this. And yet she could not help but let her desires fuel her motions.

Maybe it was how his body attempted to relax, to try and rationalize to his mind that this was not unusual, and yet stiffening with each stroke. It could have been his hands, constantly flexing and unflexing, attempting to grab something soft that wasn't there. Perhaps it was the way he was trying to stay in control, delicately biting his lip in a pale effort to try and stem his voice.

She wanted to hear him cry in pleasure, to feel his member throb in her hands, to see him shattered and lost in orgasm.

But she had to be patient for just a little while longer. She wasn't about to let haste ruin the opportunity. There was one last thing she wanted to say, and then she would relent.

Pulling her body up against his, dragging her breasts up his back again, she leaned in to his ear.

"Beg for it," she whispered before sucking his ear again.

Robin never begged before. Tharja knew he wanted to ask, to speak and wonder what exactly she meant. It was a new feeling for him, to have to ask for something and know that it might not happen. Though he had the power to step away, to have her stop, she knew that it was the last thing on his mind. "Tell me how bad you want it."

He shivered in her grasp, still biting his lip softly.

"Tell me, and I can make you feel good."

His mouth shakily opened, "Th-Tharja, please-"

_Yessssssssss._

Her grip on his cock tightened a little and she started to move just a bit faster. "Please what?"

"Please, fas-" a slow tug made him lose his place with a groan. "Faster."

"Why?" she asked back. "What do you want?"

"I want… Please, I want-" He bit his lip again, as if debating with the last of his strength on whether he should give in or not.

"Tell me what you want, and I'll let you have it." She could feel her lips smiling. He was so close, _so close._

"I-I want to... to cum, p-please." He finally let out, his breath racking his lungs and chest. His hands lay to the sides, clenched in agony, and he leaned forward, the torture and embarrassment being too much to bear.

With her other hand, she pulled his body back into her as close as she could, placing it over his heart. "Cum for me," she whispered into his ear. Her fingers curled just a little tighter around his member and started to stroke him harder. His breathing became ragged and his body stiffened in anticipation.

And then he started to give off his whimper, the one she had been waiting to hear all night long.

But to her delight, it wasn't just once, but it was over and over again, building up to a crescendo, louder and more desperate for release. She doubled her efforts, and the results were glorious.

One. Two. Three.

_Yes._

Four. Five.

Six. Seven.

_Yes._

Eight.

A half.

Nine.

_Yes, yes, yes._

"Heh heh, _good boy_."


	5. Pillow Talk

Only when Tharja dragged her left hand up his chest and to her lips, the cum leaving a slick trail on his body, did Robin start to regain his senses. It made him feel dirty, used even, to know that his seed was being smeared across his body like lewd war paint, proof that Tharja had taken claim to him.

He shuddered when she did it again, this time sliding her hands through the handkerchief to gather more of his semen and dragging it up and over his shoulder. Her tongue followed where it could reach, sucking and licking away at the tracks left behind by her fingers. It felt strange, ticklish even.

But he flinched when she put it on his cheek, turning away on reflex.

Tharja merely chuckled, administering the same attention with her tongue over the spot before pulling away.

"Open your mouth."

He was sure she could see the thoughts in his head. If he protested now, would she back away? He had just let Tharja take absolute control of the situation, and now she was about to make him eat his own-

Tharja's other hand had moved south to his member again. Though he was no longer hard, he hadn't gone fully flaccid and could still feel that sucking feeling in his navel, making him groan through his teeth. She moved back to play with his ear and neck again with her lips.

A part of him wanted to just comply and let her continue leading. But the humiliation and the knowledge that she was getting off on this made him pause.

"Do it and I can make your fantasy real."

Was… Was she talking about what he masturbated to last night? It wasn't an ideal one. But to back away now, to have gone so far and still be a virgin…

Another gentle tug from below and he slowly let his lips part. She purred and stuck her fingers in.

"Suck."

He tried not to think too much about the taste. Instead he focused on the breasts that were pushing up against him, the strokes on his member, the soft breath on his ear.

"Swallow," she said, pulling her fingers from his mouth.

He _really_ tried to not think too much about the taste. Or the feeling of it. With difficulty Robin pushed it down his throat.

Tharja moved out from behind him and chill from the cold air made him tense. "Lie down on your back." Once he was flat on the ground, she moved in front of him before getting down and crawling up to his neck. As he did so his eyes did not leave her, and when she stared back, dragging her tongue and lips down from his shoulder to his waist and then to his cock, he felt as if Tharja was churning a fire within him.

She didn't take him into her mouth at first, instead sliding her tongue around the area and up his shaft, lapping up whatever she may have missed. He hissed, taking sharp breaths as that pulling feeling returned to his gut. Her fingers gently raked across his chest and down his thighs, making him grow back in size.

Heat and wetness engulfed him and he moaned. Her tongue was deft, licking away at contours that he didn't even know existed. And when she started to lower herself before dragging back up again, he weakly cried and shivered under her.

But before things became unbearable, she pulled off of him and he found himself pining for her touch. She stood up and made eye contact with him again and he was sure that she knew exactly how badly he wanted more.

And then she started to undress. First was the cape, which fluttered to the ground. Then the outer garments that covered her breasts were next, which shielded them from prying eyes. He could see the globes from below, the nipples jutting out from beneath the dark mesh.

Then very slowly she undid the sash at her waist, revealing her nude form beneath that silky material. Eyes still on his, she walked over to his bed and lied down, putting her head on his pillow. Raising a hand, she curled the index finger towards herself, beckoning to come over. "Undress me."

She did not have to repeat the order. Standing up, he rushed over to her and climbed onto the bed, finally knowing that he would get to actually do something. Taking a quick study of the material, he saw that it actually was two pieces of cloth, like a form-fitting sweater and pants. His fingers slid underneath the material and began to pull upwards, but she quickly grasped his wrist, making him pause.

"Slowly." There was that smile again. "Feel me as you do so." He felt himself nod a little, his finger beginning to slide the cloth upwards, his knuckles dragging against her supple skin. When he reached her breasts, he paused a moment, heat rushing to his cheeks, before pushing it past and off her arms.

So… these were breasts.

Tentatively he reached out to them, feeling their shape and form. They felt firm in his hand, yet when he pressed in they softly gave way to his touch. His fingers traced the contours, feeling every corner of them for what felt like hours.

Tharja said nothing, merely smiling at him when he finally stopped and reached for the cloth at her waist. He could see a dark stain forming in the middle of it and that burning sensation returned to his face. Slowly he dragged it off of her, revealing creamy thighs and her folds in between them. Her legs spread and he realized he was staring, averting his gaze a little to the side.

"You've been a good boy," she said, voice lower and husky. She led him by the hand up to her body again before grasping his aching member with the other. With a deft movement, she placed the tip at the entrance and pushed against it, making Robin moan as she enveloped his head.

"No more rules, Robin." The most wicked grin he had ever seen from her spread across her lips. "Don't be shy and no need to be gentle." One hand went to the back of his head, pulling him towards her breasts, while the other went to his hip and pulled him deeper into her.

"I've been wet since last night."

With a hiss, he began to move his body.

* * *

Tharja found herself waking up at the crack of dawn, not from habit, but from realization. She had been unaware of it at first, but as she turned to her side, beginning to idly stroke Robin's blond hair as he slept as calmly as she had ever seen him do so, it became apparent. It was the sense of feeling normal, like everything around the two of them was going as expected.

And that was when she realized that whatever dark aura had been hanging around Robin seemed to have been mollified. Granted, she knew that sexual frustration had been among one of its causes, but that would did not explain why it still hung around within Robin. Surely it would swirl around and rise to the surface once more.

But for now it was at peace. A strange peace, one that she would have preferred to end, but didn't mind lasting a little longer, not if it meant she could be this close to him. Maybe she could even find herself wanting it in the future.

Tharja could make this work. She would have to be patient with Robin, but she could make it work in the end and he would understand her desire for him, both fleshly and beyond. And she would have to be careful about it. No one could find out about the two of them, not until later.

As softly as she could, she rose and began to dress herself. She wasn't leaving him to the proverbial empty bed, not in the slightest. She just needed a little bit of time straighten her cards and play them right.

Especially if she brought up the mark on his hand. But there was no need to rush. All in due course. But first she needed to clean that handkerchief.

* * *

When Robin woke up, he found himself anxiously looking to his right, towards the wall that his bed was against, before becoming crestfallen when Tharja wasn't there. He thought she would have at least stayed with him, considering how they still had much to discuss. Perhaps she had left a note?

Still, he sighed. This wasn't exactly how he envisioned himself on the morning after his first sexual experience. He had imagined that after an amazing night for him and his partner, they would cuddle, kiss, talk, and maybe even go another round.

But he felt like he had been used, taken advantage, and somewhat discarded. It was an emptying feeling, like he had been tarnished. Just a plaything for the night and then left for the next thrill.

"Stop worrying. I'm over here."

Tharja's voice made him snap his body towards her, reflexively bunching the sheets next to him. As surprised as he was, he felt slight relief washing over him to see her sitting on his chair. His clothes were neatly folded and on the side.

"What time is it?" he carefully asked.

"It's midmorning. Slept well, I assume?"

"… I think so." Should he ask now, to try and sort out his situation just a little bit? "How… how did I do?"

"Inexperienced, but it was good enough. That will come in time. Now let's get you dressed." She said it casually, so different from last night's tone. Was it all over now?

Still, he was naked under the sheets and was embarrassed to step out. He never imagined that being naked in front of a woman would be so nerve wracking. Perhaps it was because Tharja was fully dressed while he was not. "Umm…"

"I've seen you naked twice, Robin, and you have a cute butt. No point in hiding from me now." She pointed with her finger to the ground in front of her. "Stand here."

"Al…Alright." With a glow on his cheeks he slowly peeled the sheets away and stepped towards the indicated spot. He reached for the clothes, but then Tharja gently held his wrists.

"No." She picked up his smallclothes and knelt by his feet. "I like to end things in this way, so to speak. Lift your feet."

And she slowly began to dress him, beginning from his small clothes, then his shirt, followed by pants and finally his purple coat. It was different from last night. Robin was aware that it was still just as sensual, but without her lingering touches and feels and the ear biting. Granted, he was still struggling with his morning wood that he was sure Tharja saw, but the act was still welcome, especially considering his previous worries.

"All done."

She moved back to his armchair and sat down, pulling her legs together and tapping her thighs. She placed herself a little bit towards the front of the seat, leaning to reach the back of the chair with her shoulders. "Sit here." He warily moved himself over, taking a glance into her eyes before turning around and placing himself in her lap, acutely aware that his feet were dangling a good bit off of the ground. Immediately her hands circled around his chest and waist, pulling him closer to her and he felt her breathe in deep.

Okay, so maybe being seated in her lap was kind of sexy.

"How was it?" she said into his ear.

He exhaled, recounting his thoughts. "When I was waiting for you to get to my room, I was afraid you changed your mind."

"A part of the game." He could feel the vibrations against his back as she spoke. "Proper build up and anticipation prior to sex affects how enjoyable it is." He felt her kiss his hair. "After that, it was just guiding you through the steps."

"And making me taste my own cum was one of them?"

"It's part of the control, Robin. You could have always refused, even from the start."

That was technically true. "You try thinking straight when you're horny."

"Heh, did you forget what I said before the real fun started?"

He gave a sigh. "Sorry I asked." Her arms were a lot better at behaving now compared to last night, seemingly content with just where they were. "What happened to the handkerchief?"

"Cleaned and tucked away." His cheeks blushed, recalling where she liked to put it. But he felt less mortified over the fact now than before.

"Was I… you know…" he cautiously said, a little worried about his question, "big enough?"

"Heh heh, big enough to matter."

He still felt a little embarrassed, but he felt better with her answer. "Why me?" he asked after a short pause.

"I don't know," she gently answered, "but I like you." He already knew that answer from when they were at the dinner table, but he still felt himself stiffen a little. "You still haven't answered my question."

"It was… not what I expected," he decided to say. "I imagined my first time to be more… cuddly, I guess. And a little less one-sided."

"Like now?" she dug her nose towards his neck, arms tightening a tiny bit.

"But this is still one-sided though," he turned his head to face her. "I mean, you were behind my back half the night, and you're still behind my back now."

"Hmm…" she pondered for a quick moment before an expectant smile came to her lips. "Get off and turn around." Her arms slid away from him and he moved off of her, turning his body to face hers. Keeping her legs together, she reclined even further, pushing herself out of the chair a little bit. Grasping his hand, she gently tugged him over. "Climb on."

Placing his knees at the side of her legs, he became aware that he was practically straddling her and his cheeks burned. He tried to keep himself at a respectable distance, but Tharja's hands slid down to his hips and pushed him above her, giving them a soft squeeze for good measure.

For once, he found himself looking down on another woman. He could pretend he was taller, even if it was just some fancy body positioning. But even when they were having sex the highest he came up to was her breasts.

Even though it was with someone he didn't expect, he had to admit that this…

This was pretty damn sexy.

"Better?"

"Yes… I suppose." He found that his hands had naturally gone to her shoulders. "So… where does this put us now?"

"Depends on what you want from it. Love, sex, it's all fair game here."

Love would be nice. But Tharja? In the end, sex was sex… but love? With her? What would that even look like? "Well, I've never really considered love between us as something that could really happen… but after last night, I would say that things… well, I'm not sure where I want to go with this now."

Her smile grew on her lips, and he became aware of how close they were.

"We can approach the love topic later. For now, I can be there to help alleviate your…" she licked her lips, "frustration. No more needing to beat off on your own. Not a bad offer, no?"

That was certainly not a bad offer. "…But is this right though? I mean… I'm… if the camp got wind of this… you could be-"

"I'll be careful. But thanks for the concern." A hand drifted through his hair before resting on the back of it.

"Have you ever kissed a girl, Robin?"

"… No."

Her smiling lips were upon his in a heartbeat and he let her pull him down.


	6. Eat

_Thus their relationship started. It was bumpy and kind of strange for Robin. Tharja was able to embrace her particular attraction while he still felt unsure about her particular fetishes. But for the most part the two of them had come to an agreement of sorts. When the other was lustful or needy, they would be there for the other. And Tharja had yet to do anything particularly extreme, seemingly content in very minor aspects of controlling him, nothing like how the first time went. Besides, the cuddling part was fun, and so he accepted it for now._

_As it didn't seem to negatively affect their own performance within the Shepherds, they continued their mostly sexual relation for roughly two years._

_Robin had even given the idea of a real relationship some thought, wondering what it would look like for the two of them._

* * *

On most given days, Robin found it easy to take care of tasks at hand. Whether it was planning movements, studying terrain effects in previous historical battles, or his own training, normally it was something he could effectively occupy himself with.

"Are you hungry, Robin?"

Normally.

"For the sake of gods know how many times you've asked, Tharja, yes. I am _very_ hungry." Robin brought his palm to his face, giving an exasperated sigh.

His gaze turned to the sorceress who was lying down on his bed "The first thing I see is a note from you on my door telling me to abstain from eating. And not long after I awake you come into my room and take residence upon my bed, asking me the same stupid question you've been asking me all day."

She simply gazed at him, that Cheshire smile never leaving her face. She had been rolling around in his covers again, something that seemed to please the sorceress and was mostly harmless, but was currently annoying to deal with

"I mean, don't you have anything better to do?"

"And watching over the health of my lover is a bad thing?"

"If you were worried about my health, you'd get me a sandwich," he muttered, trying to ignore his stomach growling again as he turned the page of the book in front of him.

"And before you ask, the last time I ate was at dinner yesterday. So aside from the water you've been kind enough to fetch every now and then, I have had nothing to eat for the last twenty-three some hours."

"Good." It was the usual playful response from her, easily ignoring his grumpy jab at her.

Usually Tharja was somewhat easy to deal with. Drop his pants when she was in the mood, listen to her, have sex, and then cuddle. It was a fairly simple formula most of the time, and it was even simpler if he approached her. This time though, she was out of control.

But neither was he always this grumpy. He usually didn't mind Tharja's presence because it had become like a second shadow that was docile out in public and only came out at night to have fun. No, he had gotten used to her antics not long after their first time together.

It was mostly the fact that a week ago he found out that he was the son of Validar, King of Plegia, enemy of both Robin and Chrom in less than ten seconds despite claiming to come in peace. The fact shocked him, and seeing that hierophant was all the more troubling. To think that he was the prince of a king so vile, a king that had almost killed Emmeryn that night, and with a doppelganger to boot! It made his head hurt at the mere thought of it.

And then there was the whole Lucina debacle, Chrom and Sumia's daughter from the supposed future. The war that they fought, that they will fight, all of it was part of a bigger battle to stop a great evil and he was supposed to play a critical part in leading. It was a headache on another level when he first heard of the madness.

And he was hungry. _Very_ hungry. That was always a problem for any soldier.

Turning back to the flux tome he was trying to work through, he almost missed Tharja getting up from his bed and moving towards the door.

"I'll be back in half an hour, Robin. Don't leave the room, prepare an empty table, and _don't eat anything_."

Before he could even ask her what she was going to do, the heavy thud of the door told him that the sorceress was gone.

* * *

Tharja didn't need the full half-hour to do what she needed to do, but she reasoned that it wouldn't hurt to keep Robin waiting just a little longer. She prepared much of the ingredients beforehand. All she needed was to check her trapping hexes in the local river and prepare them. Then she just needed to borrow the cook's fire and the dish was complete.

Still piping hot from the oven, she placed some final preparations before making her way back to Robin's room. Pushing aside the door she entered and placed the dish down, taking out the second plate she had beneath it and a fork and knife.

The boy had not turned his head away from the food she brought since she came in. "Are you hungry, Robin?" she crowed.

"Is… Is that-"

She began to cut into the food. "Liver and eel pie. Your favorite." With artisan expertise she gingerly removed a slice and placed it on the spare plate. Turning it so that he could see all the hot and juicy fillings inside, she placed the fork and knife down, sauntering over to Robin and turning him to face her with a finger. "Now then I'll be back in a bit. I just need to do some final preparations and we can enjoy this together after it cools down. For now though," she leaned in and whispered into his ear. _"Don't touch anything."_

"But- you-" he sputtered, "That's not fair! You starve me for a whole day, put food in front of me and now you say I can't eat it yet?"

"Well," she moved back to entrance, "I suppose you could grab a little bit first. It wouldn't change the end result too much. But please, do try to control yourself."

Pushing open the door, she exited and headed towards the bathhouse. She suspected that she may want to wash quickly though, because with the way Robin was staring at the slice, he wouldn't last ten minutes.

But even if he did give in, it's not like it would really change anything anyway. A nice soak was always welcome. Besides, that icky aura was forming again and that meant he was pliable tonight. It was time for the real fun to begin.

* * *

Pacing from side to side in front of his bed, Robin impatiently stared at the pie. Its savory aroma wafted through the air, driving him insane and making his stomach growl in hunger and anticipation. He was sure he swallowed more spit than he thought was possible in the last five minutes.

He was the master tactician! And here he was, thwarted by a mere pastry (his favorite, but still!) and his baser instincts. There had to be some way to get to this damned slice of pie!

Walking closer to the table, he examined what was on it. There was the fork and knife, the spare plate with the slice on top of it, and the rest of the pie itself.

There were a little bit of crumbs from the crust on the table.

Surely Tharja wouldn't miss some specks of cooked dough missing from the edge of the crust, right? It wasn't going to be any real sustenance, but the hunger in his mind screamed at him. Warnings be damned. He needed to eat.

Walking up to the table, he memorized the exact way the fork was placed before grasping it. Turning to the door, he softly ran it along the edge of the pie, flaking off bits of it into his hand and brought the small bits into his mouth.

Barely appeasing. He needed more. He wanted more!

…Would Tharja notice a little bit of the filling missing from the slice? Swallowing the pooling saliva in his mouth, he moved the fork just up to the pie, hesitating a moment before deciding to take the plunge.

Suddenly his right hand whipped back, causing Robin to stumble backward and fall onto his rear. The fork fell to the ground with a clatter and he winced. That was not supposed to happen. But then his other arm followed, both being held behind his back and he suddenly paled when he felt a tight coiling feeling go around his wrists.

Rope. Tharja booby-trapped the food.

He tried to struggle free, twisting and turning his arms, but they only seemed to tighten their hold just a little more each time. He panicked and tried to stand up, but without the use of his arms, balance was difficult and even then the rope was tethered to a point beneath his bed, keeping him from rising to his feet.

The door opened, and to his mixed horror Tharja stared down at him with the eyes of a hungry predator.

"Didn't I tell you not to touch anything?" she quipped, a thin smile creasing across her face.

"You said I could grab a little bit!" he barked, "What happened to no change in end result?"

"Oh, the end result is that one way or another tonight, I will dominate you. You taking a bite just means we get to start with a more… fun approach." She strode over to the table, picking up the fork from the ground. With a bit of flare she drew out that red handkerchief from her clothes and deftly wiped the dust from it, kicking his desk chair in front of him. She then grabbed the plate and took a seat on it as Robin carefully watched her, unsure if it was out of apprehension or hunger.

Cutting off a part of the tip with the fork, Tharja bit into it, rolling it around in her mouth before swallowing. "Perfect." She looked at him and he knew what she was going to ask.

"How hungry are you, Robin?" the slow words tumbled from her lips as she kicked off her heels to the side.

"… Very."

"Good." She cut off another piece of the pie and put it into her mouth. "I think you'll like this."

"Look, are you just going to taunt me or-"

One of her feet brushed its way up his chest on his coat, dragging a trail and ending at his chin, pointing it to face her. He realized that she was not wearing her usual mesh stockings or top. "Oh, I'll feed you, alright. You just have to say the right words."

"…Please?" he hopefully said.

"That's a start," the foot made its way down, gently massaging where his heart was. "How would you address me, who obviously has the power in here?"

He bit his lip, afraid to say anything.

"I know you're afraid here, Robin, but I also know that if you would just let me be in control, if you just give yourself over, I think you'll like it a lot."

"…Ma'am?"

"Hm…" she trailed her foot lower again, settling on his stomach, "almost. You've heard me say the term before. I'm sure if you think hard, you'll remember it."

The term suddenly became clear, his mind trailing back to the very first time they were together, when she was fondling him beneath the table. "M… Mistress."

"You will only use that term when it is just you and me," she ordered. "Now put it all together and ask me what you would like. And please, call me Mistress Tharja."

He still hated that smug smile that always seemed to be on her lips, but he knew that if he gave in, he could have what he wanted. "M-May I please eat, Mistress Tharja?"

She chuckled a little, and he felt the weight behind his arms slacken. They were still tied together, but no longer tethered to the bed.

"Um, Th-… Mistress Tharja, I can't eat if my hands are behind my back…" he pleaded.

"Did you forget, Robin?" She set the plate down on the table, cutting a chunk of the slice off. "I said I was going to feed you." Grabbing the piece she placed it at the palm of her hand and with the other beckoned him to come closer. "I fully intend to uphold my part of the bargain."

The message was very clear. He stared at her for a moment, a frown forming on his lips. He would have to play her game to quell the emptiness in his stomach. Struggling to get onto his knees, he eventually made his way over to her extended palm, opening his mouth and accepting the morsel.

Absolutely delicious, if not somewhat demeaning. Her other hand ruffled through his hair. "Good boy."

Retracting her hands, she prepared another piece of pie, this time grasping it with her thumb and index finger. "Open your mouth," Tharja cooed. He tilted his head back a little and his lips parted. In a slow movement, she placed the food into his mouth, her finger running over his tongue. "Close, but don't chew."

She did not remove her hand as they were engulfed by him, but her finger continued to swirl around his mouth. "When I stick my finger out to you, you will suck on it. Do you understand, Robin?" sliding her finger out, she let him chew and swallow before he responded.

"Is… Is all of this really necessary?" he cautiously asked. "I mean, I… I'm not exactly liking this."

"If I wanted to really hurt you, Robin, you would know it," Tharja calmly replied, breaking the remaining piece in half. "If you would simply submit to me, let me do the thinking and leading, then all you need to do is just live the experience and enjoy. I'm sure you'll warm up to it. I take good care of those I like, and you are far from being an exception. I will love upon you like no other. I will just be happier when you obey."

Leaning forward, she placed the piece on her foot, and lifted it to his lips. "Eat."

He froze, staring apprehensively.

"I just took a bath, Robin. Everything is clean." She playfully bobbed her foot a little. "Eat."

He felt somewhat repulsed, but in the end he obediently lapped up the piece. Damned hunger.

Her smile grew wider and she got up from the chair, taking a seat on the bed. Setting the plate down on the nightstand, she took another piece and this time set it on her exposed thigh.

"Eat." Such simple words, and yet it made him quake. Turning around, he put himself in front of her and leaned in. But before he could take it into his mouth, she scooted it up further away from him.

"Come closer, Robin. I won't bite. It's not my turn yet."

He was forced to bring his body against her leg and her foot began to brush and rub against the hardened member he had been trying to ignore, making his body stiffen. Maybe it was just that it was a sensation that he was unfamiliar with, but he was uncomfortably aroused during their little game. He hoped it was because he knew where this was ultimately leading up to and he was just reacting accordingly.

When the food was cleaned away from her skin, she tapped her lap, a telltale sign that meant she wanted him to climb up and straddle himself there. This time, instead of apprehension, he felt himself sigh in relief. This was Tharja's sign that meant she wanted to cuddle, something that he welcomed far more easily. With a bit of Tharja's help, he was able to rise to his feet and he climbed on, his knees on her sides.

Immediately her hands found his hips, kneading the flesh as she forcefully claimed his mouth. He let his lips part and Tharja needed no coercing, eagerly slipping her tongue in. She brushed against the roof of his mouth and he shuddered. She knew he liked it there. Not to be outdone, he defiantly pushed into her mouth as well and she immediately pulled away, a grin growing on her lips when he gave a frustrated groan.

"Oh, don't be a grump, Robin. I appreciate the effort, but don't forget who's in charge for now. Am I understood?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mistress Tharja."

"Good." Taking another piece of the pie, she carefully wedged it right in between the top her breasts, the tip of the crust barely jutting out. "Eat," she said, thrusting her chest out a tiny bit. His cheeks burned. He had seen her breasts before. Fondled them, suckled and licked them. But eating from between them?

Still, he obeyed. Trying to use his teeth, he quickly learned that it only caused the crust to break away. Sticking out his tongue, he thrust it in between her cleavage, doing his best to get under the piece and scoop it into his mouth. Tharja's hands found their home in his hair and rear, giving a low, content moan. When he finally succeeded and pulled away, she brushed away a crumb and licked the finger.

"Off for a moment, Robin, but stay on the bed."

He moved away and watched as Tharja shifted her head onto his pillow and undid the lower cloths, revealing her shaved sex to him. He recalled that though it seemed to have been trimmed on a regular basis, he had never seen it hairless before. Reaching for the final piece of the pie, she placed it right over the mound of her folds.

"Eat."

Tharja had always been a little strange when it came to oral sex. She never let him perform it, and while she had fellated him before, it was always after he had come, never to actually get him off. When he asked, she said that it was simply not time for it yet. A part of him was eager to try, his curiosity getting the better of him since she was offering the opportunity, but another thought gave him pause. Had she been saving the moment until now?

Had she been… _training_ him? Conditioning him to accept her commands?

Still, under her watchful gaze, he found himself unable to resist his own curiosity. Shifting so that he was more towards the foot of the bed, he lowered himself down and scooped up the piece of food, his lips brushing against hers and he watched as a shiver coursed through her. Taking a moment to chew and swallow his food, her hands found their way into his hair and pulled him inward.

"Keep eating."

Tentatively, he pushed his tongue out, running up and down her slit. Tharja let out a satisfied groan and gripped his hair as Robin let himself be a little bolder, pushing aside the flesh and driving his tongue deeper. He found himself floundering about a little, not sure where exactly to brush against, but refused to let his own intrigue be stopped by the unfamiliar experience.

"Ooh!" she thrust forward a little when he hit a particular spot inside her and he tried to find it again, closing his eyes to try and retrace his steps.

Her breath quickened. "Mmm, yesssss, that's a good boy, Robin…" she gripped tighter as he continued to brush against that point. "You look so cute, trying so hard like that."

With a final hiss, her back arched a little and she pulled him in harder, almost thrusting into his face. He could feel the walls of her sex squeezing around him and a small bit of liquid spilled forth, a faint sweetness running against his lips and tongue.

"Oh, yes… I should have done this sooner," she breathlessly said. "A little low on technique, but that can be improved upon later." Sitting up, she pulled him up by his armpits and kissed him again, her tongue licking around his lips and a bit of his cheek before lying back down and dragging him with her.

"I think you deserve a reward." She finally said when she pulled away, leaving him breathless and panting for air. A quick turn and he found himself beneath her form. "Close your eyes."

He obediently did and he heard her fumble around with some cloth.

"Lift your head up."

Silently he obliged and he felt her threading an inch-wide piece of leather around his neck, tightening just a little bit against him. His eyes shot open.

"Tharja, what is this?" Damn the rope around his arms! He couldn't see or feel the material around him, and it was starting to worry him.

"It's an accessory. A leather collar, to be exact. And it's Mistress Tharja."

"Why would you put this on me?" Panicpanicpanicpa-

"Why, it's to show everyone that you _belong_ to me." She chuckled.

"Dogs wear collars, not people! Take it off!"

"Oh, but I don't mean to make you like an animal. At least not now." A single finger trailed down his neck, tracing the place where the collar met his skin. "It's to show that out of everyone I could have at this camp, I favor you. And like I said, I'll take good care of you."

She slinked down to his waist, dragging fingers down his coat before ending at his pants and pulling down, his hard cock springing forward. "Perhaps I should show you exactly what this privilege entails."

Before he could speak, her mouth engulfed his head, her tongue licking around the tip. A quick yelp escaped his lips and suddenly speaking was difficult.

"Th-Tharja… people will… they'll see the collar though," he managed to whimper to her.

"That's the point. I want them to know," she pulled off to say, licking from the base of his shaft to the top and taking him in again.

"B-But… I don't…" he tried to voice his opinion, but as her head began to slowly move up and down, he could only hiss and moan. It was like his fantasy that night so long ago, except now he was unsure if this was the best time for it to occur. Gods, that this would feel so good at an inopportune time.

He felt the tip of his head turn down a little, pushing even further into her mouth until her lips met the skin on his waist and groaned, the vibrations eliciting another low cry from him. Her hands trailed to his hips, squeezing them again as he pushed forward, his mind screaming for more.

"Tharja…!" he wanted to say something, to try and change her mind about the collar, but every attempt was cut off with another lick, another thrust, another groan. It wasn't long before he felt that familiar feeling building at the tip.

But she seemed to know that he was close and teased him, pulling away and only licking the flesh half-heartedly.

"If you wear the collar, I'll let you cum."

He grit his teeth, not wanting to give in but also doing his best to weigh the consequences of saying yes. Maybe he could find a way to make it less noticeable? Wear it lower? What about elsewhere?

"You know, if you play around with the collar of your coat, you could probably do a decent job of making it less noticeable," she idly said, teasing his member again.

His addled mind gave in. "Okay! Just… please…"

"Please what?"

"Please let me cum… M-Mistress Tharja," he struggled to add the last bit when she looked at him expectantly, but she smiled and put her mouth over his tip, moving up and down again.

He didn't last much longer. With a low groan, he came in her mouth and she pulled up to the tip, stroking him with her hand until the spasm ended, his chest rising with each heavy breath. She crawled up to him and gently held cheeks while before kissing him.

A familiar taste passed between her lips to his and he burned in embarrassment, the white liquid pooling in his mouth. She pulled way and the order was simple.

"Swallow."

He did, and she moved in to kiss him again. One of her hands moved down to his member and stroked it, letting him know that the night was not over.

* * *

_Then they found Noire, and things turned pretty bad._


	7. A Mistake

They hadn't done anything much with each other since that day. They didn't exactly have time for it after all, since he needed to start planning for Valm. Tharja also said he needed to get used to the feeling of the collar on him and simply obeying her small commands like that weird finger licking thing. He still didn't know how she got off on it, but it was something she had him do often. He worried over where they had been, but each time she assured him that it was just washed. And even though he could smell the orchid soap she liked to use each time she made him do it, it still concerned him a little.

Taking his free hand, he shifted the choker a little lower, trying to push his coat's front over it. It felt weird around his neck. It was a bit sweaty to have on and he always felt like he was on the verge of being choked should someone errantly grab him. It didn't help that Tharja liked to gently tug at it when they were alone, even if it was mostly for hugs and cuddles and kisses. And while that was always fun, it frustrated him that it was all things had amounted to recently.

Turning his mind away from his own nitpicking, he surveyed the dying battle they were in. Slavers had somehow fallen upon someone and Chrom naturally saw it fit to intervene. The start of combat was fierce. However, Tharja, who was at his side, suddenly snapped her attention to the east and, after a brief pause, wandered away from him. He was forced to send another group with her, but judging from the streaks of black light, she had drawn out her strongest tomes of dark magic and she seemed to fight with even more fervor than usual.

After that, the battle was almost a joke. Enemies stopped coming from the east and instead pegasus knights were sent over to reinforce the position. But the blasts of darkness never stopped and eventually additional forces were withheld, the captain of the slavers deciding that it was best to retreat westward. With much of their faster units destroyed, the other Shepherds were able to cut off the retreat and they fell upon them on two fronts, easily eliminating them.

With Frederick drawing his lance from the now dead leader, he turned to Lucina, who was taking stock of what she needed to replace. "Ysa… ed t Igen rav eyt olrlae?"

She looked at him like he had the head of a fish. "What?"

"Ht, goirh."

Communing with spells meant that he shared similar qualities with the magic he was casting. Lightning was his preferred element, as it was targeted, decisive, and quick, matching the needs and the way he thought as a tactician. Wind magic, though fast and easy to use, was impulsive and a little weaker, creating possible poor decisions. Flame was strong, but at times brought out his anger and was sometimes difficult to control. And with his unusual affinity towards magic, this sometimes meant that the emotions came strongly.

The flux tome, though, was very different. Powerful as it was, it was the harnessing of chaotic order, as its name implied. Thankfully it didn't carry any strange emotional issues with it, but it instead embodied itself in his speech. He had to tuck the book away each time he needed to issue an order. Grabbing the tome out of the air and closing it, he asked his question to Lucina again.

"In your future, do you remember me as being any taller?"

"Oh… hm." She closed her eyes for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't think you do, but I cannot fully recall."

He hung his head a little. Dammit.

A sudden voice that he didn't recognize shot out. "Lucina?"

The princess turned around and he could hear her joy. "Noire? Is that really you?"

Looking in the direction she turned to, he spotted a pale archer embracing Lucina in a tight hug, some tears of joy and relief rolling down her cheeks. Her hair was a shiny blonde and her eyes were a dark black and she seemed almost ready to collapse.

Tharja walked back to his side and looked at her from just a bit behind him, a single hand gently resting on his shoulder. She smiled, but it seemed different. Prideful, victorious, even. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, her thumb tracing the leather band.

"Come to my tent tonight."

He nodded almost out of habit, still looking at the young woman they brought back. Looking up at Tharja, he could feel his heart race as he matched similarities. Their faces had similar, not-so-prominent cheekbones. This Noire person was also just a bit shorter than Tharja, and he realized that they seemed to have the same curves as the other.

He felt his face scrunch in scrutiny. This had to be Tharja's daughter. The similarities were too great to be mere coincidence. Her hair color, however, made him sweat.

* * *

It was over dinner that he finally realized just how damaged Noire was. She was soft spoken, seemed to lack an appetite despite having fought in combat earlier and was almost forcing herself to eat, and she seemed to have a tendency to hide behind Lucina as a shield. It was as if she was frightened of something, trying to veil something away from them.

But what was probably bothering her the most was that she seemed to eye him a lot. He would meet her gaze every now and then, causing her to look away. Was she afraid of him? It didn't seem that she was unhappy that he was staring at her.

Was it because Tharja wasn't there?

And then Sully asked the one-ton question.

"So who are your parents, kiddo? Ten gold it's Libra."

Said priest was about to make a comment, but he was rudely cut off.

"INSOLENCE!"

The outburst killed all other noise in the mess tent. Her eyes were suddenly sharpened, her teeth bared, and she stood up to stare down at the rider.

"THAT MY HERITAGE WOULD BE DOUBTED! I AM-"

Lucina's hand instantly shot up to cover Noire's mouth after the princess recovered from the sudden boom. The girl seemed to instantly to calm down, reverting to her demure self and sitting down. She attempted to shrink away from the table and refused to make eye contact with anyone. Her cheeks flared, mortified at her actions.

"It would be best to leave that question alone for now. With us children being here in the past, we have already altered the timeline much," Lucina said to the group. "I'm sorry, but we wish to disturb it as little as possible for the time being, and so we shall hold onto such information for now."

Any appetite Robin had was gone. He needed to speak with Noire directly. What he was seeing did not make him happy, and he needed to know more.

* * *

Tharja would be mad that he didn't go straight to her tent. She would probably bind his arms or make him do something demeaning. But he pushed aside those thoughts as he rapped on the tent frame in front of him.

It was well into the late evening. Most of the Shepherds had settled down to rest, heading off to their own tents. Still, a dim light came from the tent that Lucina and Noire shared, which meant that they were still awake, most likely catching up on what had happened prior to their meeting today. As the voices inside the tent died down, a quick set of steps pulled up and the flap opened.

"Robin? Is something amiss?" Lucina said.

"I wish to speak with Noire," he firmly said. "Privately, if I may."

Lucina looked towards Noire, and the archer carefully nodded. Stepping back, she allowed Robin to enter and she exited the tent. He kept his gaze locked on the girl, who shifted uncomfortably on her bedroll. Noire looked like she was about to fall into pieces. "Earlier at dinner, you had a particular outburst." Robin finally tore his gaze away from her. Pacing a bit, he continued. "It was certainly not your normal voice, and I don't think was staged. You're meek, and yet you seemed to yell at Sully for her transgression before Lucina was able to stop you."

He locked eyes with the seemingly frail woman and she shrunk a bit. "Why?"

Noire wrung her hands in worry before eking the words out of her lips. "U-Um… I… well, it's... It's kind of embarrassing to talk about."

Robin took a deep breath before moving onto the subject he really wished to talk about. "Your mother's Tharja, isn't it?"

That seemed to perk the girl up a bit. She smiled at him, relieved, and spoke, "How did you know?"

"You have a similar build," he continued, "you have her eyes, her cheekbones, and she seemed excited to have found you. She would not have been like that otherwise. Now the question, though, is why did that outburst occur?"

"It's a… a side effect."

"Side effect?"

"Mother… she took away a pendant that I had. She said that it was something she must have crafted for my younger self."

"Hexed, I'm guessing?"

"Y-Yes, it was hexed. Whenever I touched it, it would make me braver."

"Why did she do that?"

"I was always a little weaker than the rest of the children. And, well, when Grima came around, she knew we couldn't afford to be weak. And so after some... trial and error, she designed the charm for me."

Trial and error? "… You seem a little scared of Tharja. Why?"

"All of us were a bit afraid of her," Noire answered. "She was usually foul-tempered, and when she was in a very bad mood she tended to hex the children."

"Hex children? She _hexes_ on them? In addition to testing spells and hexes on _you_?" Did she receive the one Tharja picked on the most? The girl couldn't just run away from the source when it was in her own home, after all. "Did she hex you often, Noire?" Did Tharja hate the girl? But then why did she give her the pendant in the first place? Was it an obligation, a duty to their child? Did she bring up something she didn't like or want, some kind of painful memory?

"W-Well... um..." her demeanor shrunk again, and he cursed himself for asking the questions too quickly.

Did he hate the girl? Was… Was she an _accident?_ Something that got forced them to go beyond just the game they were playing?

He had to know.

"Noire... where was I in all this?"

"W-What do you mean?" she carefully asked.

He took a deep breath. "I'm sleeping with Tharja," he admitted. "She's always had a thing for me and, well... I suppose I took the bait. Where was I when you were being raised?" Did he just allow this to happen to her?

"You were around for a while and for the most part you were able to dissuade mother. But, as... as time progressed, you became more and more unhappy. You got into arguments with mother sometimes. She wanted... wanted you to be home more often, but you had to lead the troops," she struggled to say. "And then one day you disappeared. Things... Things became very bad for us after that."

He always knew that this was a mistake. His mind had screamed it from the first time and his future self paid the price for it.

But what if he was wrong? The doubt crawled in his head and the information from Noire was vague, like she was still trying to hide something, but his gut seemed to lead him in this direction. Something was not right between the two.

Robin sighed, looking at the tent exit. He needed to speak with Tharja. Over what, he didn't know for sure, but he needed to. He glanced over at his daughter one last time for the night. "Thank you, Noire. This... This was probably not easy to talk about." Looking up at his daughter from the future, she seemed fearful of what would happen in close future.

It would be wise to follow up with her again. "... I would like to talk to you later, Noire. No doubt there will be questions for both of us in the near future. But for now, I'll leave the rest of the night to you." She opened her mouth, as if to stop him, but settled with a nod of her head and a simple goodbye.

Undoing the flap, he walked outside, taking a deep breath. As much as their talk answered some questions, it raised an even bigger one, one that he found himself hesitant to address. Should he end the relationship with Tharja? If she was willing to hex her own daughter in the future, what would she do next? Did she have no moral boundaries? To use Noire as a guinea pig of sorts, would she do that again if he stayed on course with her?

"Is it safe to assume you have deduced her parentage, Sir Robin?"

Turning his head towards the sound of the voice, he saw Lucina staring down at him.

"Please, you're making me sound old. And yes, I already knew who her father was."

"What will..." the princess paused, collecting her thoughts before speaking. "What will you do with the information that you currently have?"

"... I don't really know. According to Noire, my future self wasn't happy with where I was. I just know I have to speak with Tharja."

"Will you end your relation with her then?"

"...Maybe."

"... I see." Walking to the tent flap, she moved it aside and prepared to enter. "Deliberate slowly and carefully, Robin. Though it is true that you experienced unhappiness towards the end of your future self, that does not mean you did not find happiness in at least some of the things, or at all."

With that last comment, the two spoke no more, leaving Robin in the cool evening air, lost to his own thoughts and fears.

* * *

Lying on her bed, she had been staring up at the tent canvas, waiting for his footsteps and presence to draw closer. This was skewed when she noticed that the dark feeling in Robin had grown and thought that it was him coming over, but as more time passed she realized this was not the case. But this meant he was more likely to indulge freely with her, and so she patiently waited.

When the flap finally opened, she rose from her bed, pushing out her chest before turning to him. She had reduced herself to wearing nothing, knowing that it always seemed to make him less antsy when she was about to play with him.

"You're late," Tharja said. But taking a good look at Robin instantly told her that something was wrong. The way he carried himself was not one of his usual defiance. Though she would have her way with him, he would often argue and try to maintain degrees of control.

The way he looked now was scared, solemn.

"I was speaking with… with our daughter."

"Oh, so you were able to deduce it as well?"

He looked up at her, ignoring her breasts and staring into her eyes. Very slowly, he sighed and reached his hands around his neck, undoing the collar she gave him and holding it in front of him. She remained silent, however, until he finally got his tongue to work.

"I... I think we should stop seeing each other." _  
_

_"...What?"_


	8. The Naked Truth

Thus their relationship ended. Even though there was no exploding of vases or hexes being thrown about, it was clear to him that it was not a clean end. As he did his best to calmly explain that she cursed the children, that she had particularly damaged Noire, and how in the end neither of them really seemed to be happy with the other, he was forced to see Tharja implode upon herself.

It was ugly. Her lips trembled, her body shook, but she said nothing as he listed his reasons. He even blamed himself for not being there more often, for not being able to help raise their child and be as normal as a family they could possibly be.

In the end, she said only one word, and for the life of him Robin couldn't explain why it felt so gut-wrenching to hear it. Perhaps it was in the way she was holding herself, clutching her sheets to her chest, eyes turned down, a trembling finger pointed towards her tent flap.

"Out."

It lacked her usual coy and edge. It came weakly from her lips, and it stunned him. Only when he dumbly accepted her order and left the tent did he realize that the reason why it felt so alien to him was that he had never seen her in a position where there was such a sudden loss of control.

On his way back to his tent, he did not feel well. He felt that he should have been happy, should have been glad to be free of his relationship with Tharja. And based on what Noire had shared with him, it was clearly not in his best interest to continue it.

But when he lied down in his bed, the lingering scents of her soap just barely wafting from his cold sheets, he was forced to remind himself that it was for the better.

There will be someone else. There will be someone that he will fall in love with and a have wonderful, beautiful relationship.

Yes, third time is the charm.

She was just an 'ex' now, and he should do his best to let it fall into the past.

* * *

It took him a few days to work up the courage to talk to Noire. The girl was fragile enough as it was, and relaying the information to her ultimately would not help his situation at all. What was Robin to tell her? That she would never be born into this world? That based on what she told him he decided he would look for a different life partner?

That it was her fault that his love life had become worse for the wear?

And no doubt she already knew. She could see the different interactions between him and Tharja. She may have been timid, but she wasn't stupid. She knew the conversation was coming, but she was perhaps just too timid to initiate it with Robin on her own.

So when he went to her tent and asked if he could enter, she had a terrified look on her. It gave him the hardest time when he was trying to start the conversation. He opened his mouth and then closed it more times than he would like to admit. But eventually, once the first blunt words formed, the rest of it tumbled out.

"I broke up with Tharja."

He found himself sitting on a chair in the tent. His feet dangled off the ground a little as he watched the archer's shoulders stiffen.

"I... I had a feeling that was the case," she gently replied. "I haven't seen you two together since... since you found me."

Noire shrunk a little as she accepted the blame, but that was the last thing Robin had intended to imply. "That's not the case, Noire. Your mother and I... we..." he told himself to be firm as he spoke, pausing to catch a breath before continuing. "Things weren't bad, but they weren't amazing either. It could have gone one way or the other... but I don't feel that I made a wrong decision. But I want you to know right now that this was not your fault."

Her head drooped forward. "One of... One of the reasons why I came was to make sure that nothing happened to you." Her voice was firmer than he was used to, and it caused him to pull back a little.

"To me?"

"W-Well," she fought against herself once more, "do you remember how I said things were bad once you disappeared?" He nodded slowly in response and she continued. "I... I had thought that as long as nothing happened to you, at the very least the young me wouldn't have to be put through the ringer."

He bit his tongue. The young 'Noire' might not even be the same, or exist for the matter. No doubt she wondered about it too.

"I want to let you know, Noire, that no matter what happens... I'm glad the Shepherds found you," he carefully avoided mentioning himself or Tharja. "I've had to do a lot of thinking. About myself, about others... and about my future."

"And who knows. Maybe it's better this way," he shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe Tharja will find someone else, someone that is fully happy with her and she is fully happy with. And then if something happens to me, things won't go south."

"But..." he slowed down a bit,"even if I'm not your other self's father in here, I want to let you know that I'm willing to be there for you," he tried to sound brave. He meant every word he said, but it made him scared. There were a lot of things that could go wrong from here on out. "You can come to me for anything, and I'll do what I can. I mean it. I might be young, and things can change, but you can trust and rely on me."

Noire said nothing nothing afterward, and for that he was both relieved and worried. Robin had said what he wanted, while Noire looked like she needed more time to sort through her thoughts. No doubt she was concerned about Tharja and him, as well as wondering where things would end up next. She would have her own answer in time. In time, he would see if she chose to let him be there for her.

For now though, he felt a part of the tremendous weight on his shoulders lighten just a little bit.

* * *

Most of the camp also became mildly aware of the rift between Robin and Tharja when they were tasked with their mission roughly two weeks the break-up – retrieving an artifact from an old temple of Naga. It was subtle, but one that was noticed. The pair that had been so effective recently was dismantled, the two of them placed at near opposite ends of the force (specifically, he placed himself with Libra to see if he could try and speak with the monk in regards to his situation, but the opportunity never arose due to Risen throwing axes at them). This was also bolstered by the thick silence between the two and how they seemed to have a knack for avoiding each other.

Sooner or later, everyone was going to know. And they were going to accept it and move on. Robin was ready for it. He was ready for the questions, the stares, the disapproval or quiet support he would get. He didn't care. He needed to let people know, when the time was right, that he wasn't alright. But not everyone had to know immediately. Just enough. Maybe if they asked, but he wouldn't openly share it. With Valm looming into the picture, there just wasn't the time or energy to do so.

What he was not ready for was when someone with a clearly feminine voice at the end of the battle suddenly screamed and he nearly dropped his flux tome.

"Daddy!"

Turning towards the outburst, he saw a woman brusquely pushing aside Libra before dashing at him with hands outstretched.

"Gods, Daddy, it's really you!"

"Huh? Hey, wait- what are you-"

"Ahaha, I'm so glad I found you! There was this mysterious fog and-"

"Stop spinning so much! And put me down!"

"But you're okay! I was so worried and-"

_"Put me down right now and get your damned chest balloons off my face!"_

* * *

Going by looks alone, it was easier to deny and say that this woman, who called herself Morgan, was not Robin's daughter. It was quite simple to draw a connection to Tharja, but it was much harder to link him into the picture. She had her dark hair color, though her particular style had one side of her locks being longer and bangs hanging over her right eye. While her cheeks were a bit more prominent, they still bore a similarity to the woman.

There was also the annoying fact that her chest, which he had become uncomfortably intimate with for a total of ten seconds, was as…

Ahem… bountiful… as her mother's. This seemed to be a trait that passed onto all of her daughters.

That, and being slightly above average in height. Absolutely unacceptable. Unfair, even. Where was this height coming from, and why was he not blessed with any of it?

But what really vouched for who her heritage was that she was clearly well-versed in the powers of dark magic ("Me? Cold in this weather? Please, there's an _easy_ hex for that!"). Dressed in the very same style of robes Tharja had worn when they first met, mesh cloths covered by more solid lengths of material, it was almost like he was looking at a copy of the woman. She seemed comfortable in spite of the revealing outfit, and, according to reports, she had singlehandedly blasted her way through Risen to meet up with them in the shrine.

It would have been easy to say that she was, perhaps, Lon'qu's child. Somehow, perhaps in desperate need, Tharja had turned to the Feroxi for succor and then the girl was had out of wedlock. Or anyone's, really. She could have just inherited her mother's hair color, after all.

But no.

The woman had claimed that she was his daughter out loud and swung him around until he had so immaturely asked that she release him from the immediate proximity of her bosom.

And just like him, much to his annoyance, she also lacked her memories, though she recalled much about him.

"So… I'm your father, you say?"

They were seated at a table in his tent, sheltered from the cold by the thick layers.

"Of course you are!" she smiled widely at him. "You're a lot younger than I recall, though, with the whole time traveling thing and all that."

This was supposed to be an assessment of her abilities, but he found that all he wanted to know was about his love life. Or what it could have been. Or what it would be, or what he should do, or-

"Morgan, can you tell me a bit more about… well, me? What was I like in the future?"

"Well, that's kind of a big question." Morgan leaned back, placing a hand at her chin. "In what way?"

"Was I…" He needed to know. He needed to know if he was right, because the answer that was currently staring back at him made Robin wonder otherwise. "Was I a happy man in your future?"

"Hm…" her brows furrowed, digging deep into memories that he wasn't sure existed. "I always recall you trying to slip small candies whenever you could visit, and you smiled a lot. And to someone else, too. I think there was one more."

"You mean your sister?"

"I… I guess? Oh, and definitely Mother." Her smile was wide and she kept going, as if driven by the small memories of him she could remember. "You were always happy to see us, and especially happy to see her." Her lips turned down a little, before a solemn look spread across her features, a look of quiet determination. "And you were always sad when you had to leave. None of us wanted to part, and yet you still had to. And so I decided that I would learn magic so that when I was old enough, I wouldn't have to be left behind. I would be right there with you."

"Really? What about Noire? Did she also train to fight?" When he thought about it and how skilled she was with a bow (at least when she was being bold), it made sense that she had been practicing for a long time.

"Noire... Noire... She's the one with blonde hair, right?" Morgan moved her palms to her chest, pushing up her breasts a bit, "Kinda big boobs? The archer that was almost crying all over me?"

For a moment he had to remind himself that this was a woman who lived under the context that she was his daughter. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Yes, that's her."

"I... I can't really recall. But I'm sure she would have wanted to join! And Mother, too! She hated letting you go when you were able to return, kept saying 'I should be watching your back' or something whenever we said our final goodbyes."

Closing his eyes, he let his thoughts drift, taking the knowledge in slowly. While some facts were still left in the dark, there was more information on how the war was clearly affecting them. He could understand that Tharja wanted to join him. If she was any bit as clingy as she was in this timeline, he could only imagine how much she wanted to stay with him in Morgan's time. Did she feel bogged down by having to remain at home and raise the children without him? And did the fighting become so bad that war was what his children looked forward to? That was the last thing he wanted to see children be involved in, from the future or not.

But he could start to see the basis of an argument between him and Tharja. He could have wanted them to stay put, to stay out of the war and live safely, while she wanted to be with him as a combatant, someone who could fight with him, who could join him in their tent after a long day and hold him, knowing that they fought as a family to make sure that everyone survived. Maybe she wanted to fight with him to help secure a future for their daughters.

And yet Morgan's side of the story seemed to clash with what Noire told him. She had yet to mention any of the bad things her sister went through. Was she only remembering the good parts? Or was her timeline one where he did not disappear? He could already feel his stomach flip at the possibilities.

Morgan's voice eventually shook him from his thoughts.

"Hey…" her eyes squinted at him for a moment. "Daddy, where's your collar?"

"What?" his hand went to scratch an itch on his neck that seemed to suddenly come to mind.

"You know, the collar that Mother gave you?" she drew one of her slender fingers across the skin of her neck to indicate where she had seen it on him. "Something about you was bothering me, but now I realize that this is the first time I saw you without it."

He kept that thing? And he wore it all the time?

"I-I'm afraid I don't quite follow…"

"What?" Morgan quickly leaned forward and put her hands on the table they were seated at. "But that black leather one was your favorite!"

_He had more than one?_

"You never left home without it! Is it in your tent?" She looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the band.

"Well… no, it's… it's not in here." He bit his lip. He knew that it was somewhere in Tharja's tent, though he was unsure if it was still in one piece.

"So you know what I'm talking about then?"

"Yes." He sighed, putting his hand back down. "I had it for a while, but… I returned it."

"Huh? … Oh… O-OH! ... Um…" Robin saw her face twist from contemplation to slow, sorrowful realization. She most likely didn't know the full details. She couldn't have figured out that much. But outside of getting swept up in the moment, Morgan was smart. She must have put at least a part of the equation together.

An uncomfortable silence swept between the two of them. But finally, he felt his lips move. "Were you happy with me?"

"Huh?"

He felt his hands clench and he looked down, almost unsure if he should ask. If they were ultimately unhappy in the future, then that would have meant he picked correctly in distancing himself from Tharja. But the way she described him made it sound like they were as happy as they could be during their time as a family.

"I mean… I wasn't around a lot. I was off fighting a war and only visited home every now and then. But… when I did come, when I did see... my family, was I… was I a good father? Did I do my best to make you happy?"

Robin had never been so scared to hear a response. He feared a no because that meant he had fallen short of his own ideas of what the basics of fatherhood consisted of. But a yes meant he had made a grave mistake.

"Well, duh!" Morgan looked at him like a parent playfully admonishing a silly child. "You were always happy to be home and you always tried to spend time with me. And probably Noire too, though I can't really speak for her."

"And sometimes, Mother would get so jealous she'd pick you up and put you on her lap and just never let you go anywhere. And you always pretended to hate it but you really seemed to like it. And… And… um… I…" There was a lapse in her description followed by a short frown, hand poised in the air, most likely due to her lack of memory. He knew because he tended to do the same at first. But she waved it off and continued. "Either way, you loved it when you were home, we loved it when you were home, and though you didn't always act like you enjoyed it, you liked it when mother was being cuddly with you."

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and putting his elbows on the table, fingers wringing together. "Yeah, I can see why I liked that."

Everything he thought he knew was turned up onto its head.


	9. Coming Out

After seeing Morgan and how she introduced herself to Robin, Tharja was at a loss. Signs pointed to the fact that her attempts at a relationship had failed. He had unceremoniously taken what she offered him and decided that for all that she lay out on the table for him, it wasn't enough. It wasn't what he wanted, and he demanded that she stop.

Never mind that he could have always said no to her particular way of love and suggested his own. She didn't think that it would have made a difference for her. But he never did, and instead chose to leave.

Tharja didn't let herself cry. Dark mages at her level were beyond petty things like that. But the hardest part was keeping herself from following after him. It was one of the things that he clearly stated was to no longer continue. No more following him and watching to make sure nothing happened to him. No more entering his tent at night to watch him sleep. No more cuddling.

_No more sex._

Separating from a partner was never difficult for Tharja, even in some of her longer term relationships. But this was different. This was Robin, someone whom she found herself dangerously attracted to, and now that he had chosen to leave her behind she was suffering.

Any other time, she was sure she would have considered a split in relations a boon. But to see what she wanted taken away and then to be further taunted by what could have been? Impossible.

And then there was that festering aura within him she had to consider. Watching it grow in him, that dark, icky, feeling emanating from the center of his body was both enthralling and terrifying. Here he was, a mysterious harbor of darkness, an anomaly that would send dark mages scurrying back and forth with piles of notes, and she was able to witness its existence firsthand. Perhaps that was why she was treating him the way she did. She held a direct influence over how strong or weak it became.

And right now she knew she had no control over it. Knowing that this darkness was growing in him and that she was no longer able to restrain it worried her. Most dark mages were schooled on how to control this strange entity, but Robin lacked the training for it. Seeing how he could barely use a flux tome when she first introduced it to him solidified that fact. However he seemed to have this natural resistance to it. And with its growing size, most would have gone mad. Those that didn't were often already mad in some way.

She got up from the edge of her tent. She didn't even lay out her bedroll. She found that there was no point if it was just her. It was cold and empty. But she needed to talk with Robin. She needed to make sure that he was capable of maintaining that darkness within him. And at the very least she needed to know what was going to happen with their daughters.

And she needed to tell him that she wouldn't mistreat them. Maybe if she needed to discipline them, but never out of malice. She had no idea how her other self could do such a thing. But they were just as much her children as they were his. Only the ones that were truly lost could forsake their own flesh and blood. Not even dark mages looked upon that lightly.

Maybe things were really just that bad in those times.

Looking at the tent entrance, she felt a raw determination in her chest. It was different from the gloom and dark that she was used to. It was fierce and hopeful, not unlike when she and Robin basked in their post-lovemaking. It reminded her that there was an established bond, one that even different schools of dark magic recognized and sought to try and draw power from. She was going to take her chance.

With renewed hope and long strides, she reached for the flap and pushed it open, letting the daylight seep into her tent.

"O-Oh."

There stood Robin, hand raised to knock. After a moment, he sheepishly looked away and let the formed fist fall to his side. Any other moment she would have smiled, knowing where his stare would naturally land because of his stature, but she remained silent and made no moves.

With a renewed gaze, confident in himself and yet unsure of the outcome, he looked up at Tharja.

"Let's talk."

* * *

For all the thought Robin put into the conversation, what he wanted to say, how to respond if she asked a certain question, and where he would draw his limits, actually trying to say them was turning out to be difficult. More than once did he open his mouth only to close it again. Maybe it was tied to how Tharja was simply remaining still. With how she used to be around him, perhaps seeing her like this was unsettling.

A part of him knew, though, that things would be easiest if he could just start to talk.

"How are you doing?"

It was a terrible and asinine question, and he did his best to refrain from biting his lip afterwards. Of course he knew how she was doing – badly. The few times he did spot her she seemed sullen and grumpier than the other times when she didn't seem to know he was watching. Those moments were few and far in between, as she rarely did not know that he was watching. Only when she was truly engrossed in a subject did she seem to lose sight of him.

Tharja, however, did not comment upon the choice of question. "Not… Not well." It didn't take a genius to see that.

Still, Robin was able to get his foot in the door, and right now that was what he needed, pounding heart be damned. "I guess we both know why I'm here, so I'll spare you the small talk." He took a deep breath. "I'm here to talk about Morgan, and how it affects us."

She slowly nodded, attentive but clearly reserved in her motions. Her hands were balled together in front of her.

"I interviewed her a few days ago, asking a bit about her abilities and what she was capable of. But ultimately… I asked a lot about us, about who we were as a family and as parents." He found that his hands came to rest at the side of the small table between them. "I… well, to say I learned a lot about us would only be half of the story."

Looking back into her eyes, he tried to remain as calm as possible. "I thought a lot about us afterwards, too."

There was a brief silence before Tharja slowly spoke. "And your conclusion?"

He sighed, "I know that it certainly left me with more questions than I expected." His hands tightened just a little bit, and he had to tell himself to relax. "Noire and Morgan didn't share the same story with me. Noire talked about all of the bad things while Morgan talked about what was good. At first, I thought that what they shared did not support the other. But as I thought more and more about it, I could not prove that one was lying. There wasn't enough evidence to say that one is right and the other is wrong. From what was shared and what I know, they could both be right – they might have only shared different points of time in our family life."

Then with much fear and hesitation and knowing that he was about to cross a line that he clearly drew only a bit more than a month ago, he stretched his arm across the table to try and gently grasp her hand (thankfully Tharja, out of realization or desperate for his touch, slid her arms just a little bit forward, saving him face. Curse his shorter stature!). "I did realize, though, that when I said everything to you, I… wasn't being fair. I was thinking about me, and I didn't give you a chance to speak up for yourself. I was so settled on you being a horrid life partner that it didn't even occur to me to ask you what you thought."

"I think I was scared," he continued, swallowing hard but glad that Tharja had not started speaking yet. "I was afraid of how our relationship was developing – that it was just sex, that there were no real feelings and with that… that collar thing you wanted me to just become another conquest. I was mostly neutral to it. I mean… I was scared, but it didn't necessarily mean that we would go down that path entirely and forever. And then once I met Noire, I was afraid that after I no longer fit your desires or you became tired of it, I would have been cast aside, but the child kept us together and unhappy, and that it led to places I didn't want to be in."

"But then Morgan showed me that there was the possibility that we were happy together, that we may have chosen this lifestyle because we wanted it. Once she showed me what she remembered, I realized I was being rash and for that I'm sorry."

Getting all of that off his chest and apologizing felt nice, and Tharja seemed to brighten a little more at the admittance as well. The relief of knowing that she was not rejected must have been a welcome thought.

"If it was anyone else in your spot," she started, "I don't think I would have given them the time of day."

It was like Robin hadn't breathed for days, and the sudden breath of fresh air was a relief – this was the Tharja he was familiar with.

"You know how I am with you. If _you_ ask me to jump, I'll ask how high… if the reward is good enough." A foot trailed up his shin, reminding Robin that there was still the whole domination aspect of their relationship to discuss as well, but one step at a time. "It's not unlike what I've asked of you on our first night. Jump and I'll reward you. I admit, though, that perhaps you were not quite ready for pleasures on such a level. Even then, I said I'll take good care of you. I still stand by those words. I can wait."

There was a short silence in between the two, but it was a gentle one. It seemed to be one that neither wanted to break, perhaps simply wishing to enjoy the fact that they were beginning to agree on something.

They missed each other.

"I want for us to be together," he finally said. He was even more relieved to say that than his previous admission. Tharja's lips curled up into a smile, and while there were those darker grins of hers, this one was different from those. "For them… and…"

"And us. I don't know what 'us' will look like, but I'm willing to try and explore. I saw an end where we were happy together, and I'm not afraid to try to find and walk that path with you."

His hand squeezed hers a tiny bit. "I just want to say, though, that I'm not here for a second chance. I'm not here for a game where we keep asking what the other has done for us recently in bed. I'm asking for something more. I'm asking for us to start over, to learn from scratch. We entered this relationship with preconceived notions and I can see how they harmed us. I don't want to ask you to forget what happened when we first separated. I know that I could have approached it better. For now though, I just want to focus on building up to something better by a fresh beginning."

"A beginning, huh..." she looked to the side, no doubt wondering what Robin was trying to see. "That's a lot to think about," she said, turning back to face him. "A lot of possibilities to consider."

"I think it's best if we get a time to really just lay out everything we would like to know about the other, and just really sit and figure out what we want for the other. But…"

Unfortunately, there was that three-letter word, and he felt Tharja stiffen a little, her smile faltering a bit. He tried to break this to her the gentlest way possible. "I think we're going to need help. I have a feeling we can't do this alone."

"I think we should get a bit of counseling first."

* * *

Asking Tharja to let another person know about their relationship was certainly a daunting task. The sorceress stood to lose more than he did – it was easier to see it as a predatory relationship as opposed to one with two consenting parties. He knew he was asking a lot from her. But once Robin let her know who it was they would be speaking with, she seemed to be much more accepting of the proposition, save one small addition. If they were going to pursue this, if they were going to be together, she was going to (eventually) let everyone know who he belonged to, and in her own special way.

He consciously scratched the dark collar around his neck, making sure that it was as low as possible before raising a hand and knocking on the frame of the tent.

"Please, enter."

A breath. A deep, nervous breath. Very slowly, Robin lifted the cloth to the side, and after a moment's trepidation, his head quickly looking from side to side, he strode into the tent and let the material fall back down.

"I hope I am not intruding, Libra."

The monk looked up from the scriptures on his desk, his straight gold locks framing his tapered face as he moved his notes to the side of his desk. He was dressed in a beige long sleeve shirt. Perhaps he was preparing for sleep, and it made the tactician worry. However, his confident voice seemed to indicate otherwise as he lit another candle, adding more light to the space they were in. "Worry not, Robin. I am more than willing to lend you an ear, if that is what you wish for. How can I help you?"

The monk motioned towards a chair and he sat down. His stature didn't help and he was forced to look up at Libra. "Well, I want to talk to you about Morgan and… and Noire."

"I see. What do you wish to discuss?"

"Well… in order for a child to exist… the parents have to… get together."

He was still bad at talking about subjects like these, but he was getting better. Slowly but surely getting better.

"The relationship wasn't so good at first, but both parties want to repair the damage done. Am I… Am I making sense so far?"

"Crystal clear."

For some reason, the monk seemed on edge. Still, Robin continued. At the very least he wasn't jumping to conclusions.

"Well… Morgan announced that I'm her dad and taking in how Noire has blonde hair, I've come to the conclusion that the future me fathered both of them. I mean… you could have fathered Noire but… I don't… I don't know if a man of your position would be-"

"I am allowed to take a spouse, if I felt that Naga had led me to do so," Libra was kind enough to gently correct him. "However I do not see that happening amongst us here, so I shall remain celibate for now. Still, you are digressing. Do not be afraid, Robin. Please tell me how I can help."

"W-Well… um, I _think_ I know the mother." A lie. He knew the mother already. Knew and slept with her. "But we've had some… issues before. I-I mean, I want to be with her for the children and for us. I believe we can fix this, but… I feel we need help."

When he looked back up at the monk, his position had changed. His fingers had intertwined with each other and he held it right at the base of his chin, his elbows resting on his desk. His eyes were closed, as if contemplating. Or praying silently. Robin wasn't sure. But he knew he needed the man's help. He seemed like someone who would know his way around helping people in their relationships. Never mind that he wasn't in one.

Finally, the man brought his hands back to the table. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and then looked to the side, specifically to the left of Robin.

"You do not need to hide from me, Tharja," Libra spoke calmly, causing Robin to reel back a bit, "I understand why you two are seeking my assistance. There is no shame in that. Please, lower your guard and allow me to help you."

Could the monk see through her hex? The plan was to sneak her in and then just let it all out in one go over the poor man. But now, Robin was unsure what he was getting himself into. Again.

Looking to his left, he watched as if a veil had fallen from the top of Tharja, slowly revealing her to the world. The look on her face was just a little stunned. "I'm surprised you can see me."

"I am trained in the verses of magic. Though my repertoire of skills in that field may not be as vast as yours, I am able to detect when it is being used in my presence. I am not able to see you, but I know you are there." The monk returned his gaze to Robin.

"I understand you were seeking help in regards to a relationship. Do you mean to say you needed assistance with your own?"

Robin silently nodded.

"And you said that you had some troubles earlier. Barring the obvious difference between the two of you, how far along have you-"

"We've fucked before," Tharja bluntly put it. "We've been at it for two years."

Libra once again closed his eyes, this time sighing and slowly bringing a hand to his forehead.

"I see that patience does not appear to be your strong point."


	10. New Moves

And thus, Robin and Tharja shared the life story of their relationship with Libra. Or, rather, it was mostly Robin who shared. Tharja seemed mostly content to sit back and let him describe it, only interjecting her side of the story if she felt it necessary. All the while the priest was content to sit and think, asking questions to both of them and writing notes.

"When Tharja gave you your first orgasm, how did you actually feel at that moment? Look past the feeling of release, but rather what emotion you felt."

"First impressions often lead to lasting feelings about a topic, Tharja. After the decision was made to pursue sexual interaction, what made you decide to pursue Robin in such a manner?"

"What drove you two to continue with having sex these past two years?"

Some of the questions, to both of them, were uncomfortable. Libra, however, pushed through and continued with more questions until he finally set his quill aside.

"Robin, to make sure that I am correct, you would like to explore the possibility of a relationship with Tharja, but how you have sex and how it is approached one of your primary concerns. And yet despite all this, you wish to find a way to start over."

He nodded his assent, a little drowsy as the night had started to turn deep.

"And Tharja," the priest turned to the dark mage, "You would do anything to keep your relationship with Robin, while hoping to share with him your particular appetite."

"Isn't that obvious?" she huffed. "Don't tell me that that's all you have to say."

"I understand that it might seem trite, but please, bear with me just a bit longer."

With one last breath, Libra spoke.

"You need to have sex with each other, with-"

Robin was flabbergasted, "But that's what we've been doing!"

"…waste of my time." Tharja had already gotten up from her chair and began to leave. "I don't need you to tell me to sleep with Robin."

Libra closed his eyes, and the boy swore the monk's hand had become a fist for the briefest of moments. " _Please_ , let me finish." The man looked towards him and his gaze seemed unsettling. "Robin, your first sexual experience, while gratifying, was certainly a terrifying one at the same time."

"Tharja," he looked towards the mage, who had turned around. "Your first time had left an impression that you were looking for something more carnal than amorous."

"To help overcome these first impressions of each other, I recommend sex. However, there are going to be some limitations."

* * *

Libra had prescribed three rules. The first was that only one of them could act at any time. While the other was to enjoy the attention and could react positively, they were not to return affection. The second was that the inactive party was allowed to refuse the advances or ministrations. Finally, if the person refused, the other was to try a different path or approach.

It was their third attempt after their session with Libra, and Tharja was still having difficulty in getting Robin to accept her particular advances. It was hard enough to find opportunities to even try to get naked together in the Feroxi fort, and one near-accident made them resort to meeting in Robin's private room. And the fact that she hit no after no after no was becoming a turnoff. While she was sure she was at least being nice with her attempts, Robin seemed to be unconvinced, stating that he wanted to get this done properly. He assured her that she was getting closer but still felt just a little off, that something wasn't quite right.

For the third time, the two of them sat across each other on a bed naked, their eyes roaming across their bare bodies. She could see that his member had stiffened, and while he made no move to hide or otherwise shy away, that rosy blush on his cheeks seemed too stubborn to leave him. She knew that she was wet, and inwardly she hoped that the old saying would be right, that the third time was the charm, despite knowing that such a phrase held no water – she was a sorceress after all. Still, it was all she could cling onto in hopes of gratification.

But right before she leaned forward, intent on making her advances again, Robin raised his voice.

"M-May I go first?"

His question surprised her, and it must have shown on her face since he continued. "I know you've been trying your best," he stammered a little, cheeks flushing just a tiny bit more, "but maybe this will help. I mean, I don't know if it will help or if it's actually-"

He shook his head, pushing away whatever he would have said. Still, he resolutely looked her in the eye in spite of his flustering and he had a determined visage. "May I?"

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "That's hardly something you need to ask for."

"I know, but… I've been thinking about what Libra told us, so I just want to make sure everything is okay. Lay down please?"

As she did so, Robin crawled up to her and gently parted her legs, exposing her pink flesh to the cool air. His hands slowly glided down her thighs and she shivered, her body brimming with anticipation.

"I'm going to-"

She groaned "I'm not made of paper, Robin. Just do it."

"But Libra said-"

"If I'm uncomfortable I'll let you know. I'm horny and I don't want to wait."

He looked her in the eyes intensely, as if trying to discern what she really meant before continuing. "… Okay then."

Very slowly, his eyes not leaving hers, his head descended until he was just a bit away from her opening. For a moment Tharja's mouth hung open as this was not what she had expected. Her heart beat faster as he opened his mouth, and she let out a small hiss as Robin began to drag his tongue over her skin.

While it wasn't his first time doing this, it took much of Tharja's willpower to not grab his head and push down. He seemed content to go slow, perhaps still unsure of what he was doing. Her hands bunched the sheets beneath her and she moaned, louder than she intended.

As if finally accepting that she was welcoming his ministrations, he took his eyes away from hers and began to lap away in earnest. His fingers plied away at the wet folds and he pushed his tongue deeper, making her body arch and her legs tremble. Her hips thrust against him as she closed his eyes and let him eat away at her.

It had been too long since she and Robin had been like this, Tharja decided. Biting back her cry, she did her best to endure the trembling shudders that came with release in silence.

When the feeling passed, she saw that Robin had retreated back to his original spot, looking pleasantly accomplished. It had felt good and he knew it. A part of her wanted to take control from here, to show him that playtime was over and that whatever had come earlier tonight was simply foreplay before her libido.

But at the same time, that wasn't what this exercise was supposed to do. It was to remove the first impression that she had created two years ago, to show that she was capable of change, or at least attempting it.

And Robin was right. Seeing him in action had at least given her an idea. Moving to the edge of the bed, she kept her knees together and let them hang at the edge.

She lightly patted her thigh, knowing that he would be more than happy to oblige to come closer.

"Sit here, please."

He always did enjoy cuddling.

* * *

This wasn't the first time she had invited him to her lap. Whether it was for simple cuddling or for some other form of sexual interaction, it was a common request from Tharja. It was easy enough to say yes when she was clothed and sitting in his chair. There were a few nights in their past where she was simply content to hold him while he studied. Other times it was a part of the act – she would let her hands slide over him before gently diving under his clothes.

But it was usually a surprise when it happened like that. There seemed to be no particular rhyme or reason as to when it was for one reason or another. Yet tonight, when Robin knew that it was going to lead to some sort of gratification, he felt somewhat hesitant.

Perhaps it was because she was giving him a choice?

Shaking his head a little bit, he moved over and sat in her lap before leaning back against her. Very slowly, Tharja raised her hands to his shoulders, gently kneading and dragging her fingers down his arms and back up. She seemed careful to not touch the front of his body, content feeling his back and sides, and he briefly shuddered. And usually Tharja's lips were more involved, going for his ears and kissing his head and neck, but for some reason she refrained from doing so.

She seemed to realize his anxiousness, as she then spoke again, "Sit sideways, please."

"Sideways?

"Yes, across my lap."

That was new to hear. Tharja wasn't one to shy away from full frontal nudity or affection, so to hear this particular request made him curious. Not scared, he realized, but just curious. Swinging his legs over the side, he felt her thighs part beneath him to let him sit in between, reclining against the warm flesh like a seat. One of her hands trailed to his stomach and he let loose a breath he didn't know he held onto. Her other arm went to support his back.

In one slow, fluid motion, her hand glided down to his cock and he twitched in anticipation. She took ahold of him with a feather-light grip before turning her dark eyes to his. Looking at him, she gently slid her fingertips up his member and he hissed.

And in that momentary gap, she moved her head down and gently claimed his lips. She didn't dive in immediately, seeking to first peck at him. But after a few more light touches he groaned again. His hands were balled into small fists, seeking to hold something, to do anything in return like fondle her breasts or feel her sides. But Libra's directions remained steadfast in his mind and he did his best stay still.

She must have known, for when he gasped a third time, her tongue dashed in. He wanted to be active, to try and push back for her, but something was different and all he could do was languish under her movements.

She was still in control, in a dominant position. Robin knew that, but the feeling here was different. Where there were times where it felt like the situation had been forced upon him a little, this… this…

It was different. Before, it was a time where he just wanted release but here he found himself desiring that she continue this type of engagement. This… torturous love… was making him want more. While he could recall being horny, he hadn't felt this type of arousal before. His member felt harder, more firm against her soft ministrations, and all he could figure out was that he wanted more. More of her kisses, more of her tongue mashing against his, more of her hand gliding up and down his shaft.

It was like he could feel her desire and care for him in every movement, despite her dominant position. It was a sensual dominance, and he was drinking it in.

He moaned, and he felt Tharja pull away just a tiny bit to chuckle. Immediately he pined for her contact, and yet he stayed himself. Her gaze settled against his, and at first she moved her lips if to speak. But for whatever reason she withheld her thoughts and, to his relief, dove back down again.

Her grip on him tightened ever so lightly as she continued, until he had lost himself under her firm, slow strokes and kisses. His body shook, arched, twisted, and languished under her tugs.

"Please…"

For a moment, he thought his utterance that slipped out made her want to stop. But in a moment she was upon him again, fiercer than before. Her tongue lashed against his while he was turned helpless by her hold on his cock. Faster and faster she went, and all he could do was whimper into her mouth as his body tensed for the moment.

He briefly worried that she would hold off just a moment too soon as she had done a few times before, but her intentions were true. He squeezed and pulsed in her grip as the white heat erupted from his member, the cum landing against his stomach and chest in thick strings and drops before dribbling down the sides of her hand.

Finally pulling back, she gave him a smug smile as she continued to stroke him, letting the rest of the orgasm run its course, his body twisting and panting for breath.

* * *

Robin knew that Tharja was not fully satisfied. She had always demonstrated a big appetite for sex, but for now it looked as though she had curbed her particular desires. After he had recovered, she had cleaned away his seed with the red handkerchief and pulled the covers over them.

An arm snaked around his body. "I trust that met your preferences?"

"I'm pleasantly surprised," he exhaled, "It's quite what I had thought it would turn out to be."

She pulled him into an embrace and took a breath, "I admit that I… didn't exactly make it easy for you to believe me, but I'm glad you're starting to understand."

"Well, I'm sure I still have some questions," he fidgeted a little, moving himself closer to her body. "But for now, I think I need to sort of process what I've seen."

"Hmm, fair enough," she relented. Giving him one last kiss on the head, she closed her eyes and pushed it no further for now, content with what they had shared.

"… Say, if Libra, as a priest, is supposed to remain celibate, how does he know what to do regarding love and sex?"

"No idea."


	11. Alone Time

Robin felt that the first (and easier) step for him was to tell Morgan and Noire. And while Morgan was clearly happy to know that he would attempt to pursue a relationship with their mother, the other one had almost lost herself in tears. There was a clear sense of relief, that she hadn't screwed up everything by coming back.

"Thank you so much, Daddy!"

And it made him feel better, too, sans the crushing hug that Noire gave him (she had to kneel down for it, though). It felt like he was making the right choice. Even if it didn't work out in the end, he felt optimistic about giving it another try. He had more knowledge about relationships than when he started, and he had Libra's guidance.

Two thing did concern him though. Being maybe fifteen and a father was certainly a boggling thought. But he had given Noire the benefit of the doubt. He would do his best to be a father figure, even if his stature didn't quite match it. And he was pretty sure it would be years before he actually fathered a child anyway, so this was good practice.

Speaking of stature, that was the other thing that concerned him.

"Say, do I ever get any taller?"

Noire stood up and moved beside him before straightening her hand and putting it against the top of his head. She smiled again as she spoke. "Just a little bit."

Admittedly, that moment made him puff out his chest in pride. But then after all the hugs and thank-yous were said, that left the bigger issue at hand - talking with Tharja. Granted, she already knew that he wanted to pursue the relationship, but figuring out how they would do the whole sex thing was the hard part.

And it's not like they could just ignore it forever. Assuming all things went well, that meant that somehow their own Noire and Morgan would be born, which meant that sooner or later they were going to have sex. And knowing Tharja's appetite, she would be leaning towards the sooner than later.

This was also compounded by the fact that the day after he told Morgan and Noire, they had set sail for Valm. This meant that just about everyone was together on the boat, which had removed the opportunity of privacy from any location. And with the way the supplies turned out, he was unable to secure a whole room for himself. He wasn't about to pull rank for some additional favors.

Besides, married couples were given priority, and as far as everyone else knew besides Libra, they weren't seeing each other. Outside of the immediate precipice, the thought had kept Robin awake longer than he would have liked. Did they even allow marriage at his age? And how much was the age difference between him and Tharja? He never gave weddings much thought on his own, but suddenly he felt that he'd rather have just a quiet ceremony as opposed to a full-out event like Chrom's.

He needed some sort of small plan to discuss things with Tharja, and so he set out to study the routines of those on the ship. He was a tactician, after all - planning was his specialty. And to plan, he needed to know the layout of the ship and the habits of those on it.

But he finally found it. They had to naturally meet at night, where a good majority of Shepherds were resting. They would also require a location that was more secluded than usual to help prevent eavesdroppers. Finally, he needed to be in a location where no one would think to search for him there (the same went for Tharja, but he wasn't sure if anyone besides him ever attempted to find her anyway).

They would meet in the storage room in three days.

Tharja never really agreed with boats. It wasn't the seasickness that got to her - that was easily handled with some ground newt and ash of ginger root - but the confined space meant that everyone was in everyone's business. Privacy was always a concern, but it was especially stifling now that Robin had decided to try and continue with their relationship.

She could tell that he was trying to do something. He kept giving her quick stares, looking to her eyes whenever he saw her and she worried if he was being too open about it. Whenever no one was watching, though, she flashed him a quick, small smile.

But she could tell that he was a bit stressed about it as well - that icky feeling was building up again, thought it was different. Previously it was often chaotic and impulsive, possibly even affecting his decision making and reasoning before. But now it seemed less distraught and more directed. Instead of just feeling like it was extending and shrinking like a droplet of water, it was made of hard, solid edges, like the beginnings of a lattice or embroidered pattern. A dark and icky snowflake, perhaps.

And while it was normally easy to handle, the current situation was terrible for it. It was easy for her to procure a safe space for the two of them to talk, but she knew that she needed to let Robin go at his own pace. He would come to her under his terms.

Besides, she noticed that Robin had kept his collar on, and it excited her to no end. A reward was in order, and when a slip of paper in Robin's handwriting was tucked in her covers one night, she was more than ready for it.

The empty hallways of the ship were cool and dark, lit only by hooded lamps in the corners. After making sure that Gaius was asleep (or at least not following him - his specialty was stealth and thievery, after all), he quickly slipped the fire tome from beneath his pillow and tiptoed out in cotton pants and a nightshirt, tossing his coat after realizing how cold it was.

Looking both ways to make sure the hall was empty, he took two lefts, a right, another left, and finally ducked behind a corner and silently counted to three - just in time to overhear Cordelia return from her patrol and exchange duties with Henry. His particular patrol path would start in the opposite direction, which allowed him to move through the remaining hallway before taking the stairs down and to the right, just in time to enter the storage room before Stahl could round the opposite end.

"You know, you could have just asked me for an invisibility hex. No need to sneak around so carefully that way."

He jumped at first, but then gave a breath of relief when he realized it was Tharja. Taking out his fire tome, he created a small flame and began to carefully light the lamps in the corners of the room. "It might be extra work, sure, but some of our more attuned companions might be able to pick me out." There seemed to be extra candles than normal in the room compared to the other lamps, clashing with the normal design of the ship, but he waved the thought away. Perhaps it was darker in here than the in other areas. "Considering the nature of our relationship, I'd rather err on the side of caution."

He flicked his hand and the small flame died away. At the same time, Tharja had come over to him and gently placed one of her hands on his shoulder. "And if you were to encounter someone? What would you say then?"

"I guess I'd say I couldn't sleep - I can't recall ever being rocked to sleep, after all, and this boat seems good at the rocking part."

"I suppose there could be worse alibis." Placing her back against the wall, she sat down and let her legs slide out and a little to the side. Her hand fell in front of her body, tapping the floor twice. Like clockwork, he moved over and sat down in front of her before leaning back. His skin tingled a little as her arms went beneath his and wrapped around his body.

It had been some time since Tharja held him like this. While she sat him on her lap during Libra's exercise, she had reigned in her advances. But here she held him against her, seeking to be as close to him as possible.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the attention. "I told Noire and Morgan about us."

"And?"

"Well," he shivered as a light warm breath fell against his neck, her forehead digging into his blonde locks, "they're quite happy, as one would expect. I mean, they're practically grown adults and all, but I think anyone would be glad to hear that." He made a brief, pause, heart shuddering just a bit at his own question. "What about letting the others know?" His gaze fell to their feet. "We should find a way to share that."

"We could always just marry," her warm arms held him just a little tighter for a moment. "Ricken and Nowi were able to get it done, weren't they?"

"No," he half-heartedly huffed, his lips going a little thin, "it's not that simple, sadly."

"Oh?" She was genuinely surprised. "How come?"

Robin took a breath. "Well, for one, Nowi is a Manakete. Little is known about them outside of ancient history, yet they are revered as descendents or otherwise related to Naga. And on the other hand, Ricken is the heir to a noble house. While not super powerful, if a Manakete wants to marry in, they are going to make sure it happens. So despite walking what could be a fine line, they can get away with it."

Lousy Ricken.

She clicked her tongue. "And we can't, then?" Tharja replied, annoyed. "Chrom can't pull any strings for you?"

"Just because he's the Exalt doesn't mean he can just let it happen. And besides, Chrom doesn't know we're seeing each other. The only person that really knows is Libra. We'd probably have to ask him for help over this too, but I don't want to get him into trouble either."

He resigned himself to the fact that they still didn't really have an answer. "I guess I should tell Chrom first."

"Doesn't have to be now though, does it?"

"Yeah, maybe after we're done with Valm."

It was a bit of a bothersome thought, but thankfully Tharja changed the subject. "Anyway, since we're talking about this I assume you're ready for more of me, then?"

He took a slow breath. This was the deep end - not exactly a point of no return, but it was pretty close. He liked the concept of family, though he was sure he certainly wasn't ready to start one. And it's not that he didn't like Tharja. In fact, he had found himself more attached to her than he thought he was. It was just that her habits…

His hands fell on top of hers, fingers playing with her thumb. "Well, a part of me won't know until we do it... but that's the scary part."

"It's not an uncommon feeling," she softly kissed his hair. "I went through that, too."

He looked over his shoulder, surprised that she of all people would relate to him. "Really?"

"You forget about my previous relations. One was mostly normal. For my other two, I was the dominant one in the first and then I was the submissive for the woman," a small sigh escaped her lips. "So yes, I know exactly what you're feeling right now. As they say, there's a first time for everything."

While he took some solace in that he wasn't alone with his concerns, he felt other questions arise as well. He looked forward, staring down at their hands. "What… uh… I guess… what did you do as a sub?"

"A good bit of everything," he could hear her grin. "It was fun, but in the end I figured I enjoyed being in the lead more. But I have to say, there were a lot of firsts for me during that time. I enjoyed some activities more than others, but she was able to pick up on that and we didn't do those particular things anymore."

Robin really wanted to ask what she had liked, but he remained silent. He felt Tharja drag her lips across his collar.

"Regardless, you've worn my little gift ever since we've gotten back together. How do you feel about a small reward?"

"It would depend on what that reward entailed," he cautiously said. "Should I have a reason to feel concerned?"

"No, not really," he could hear her smile. "Just some minor things, unless you want to try more."

Before he could answer, there was a slight hum with a tiny jostling of metal. There was a strange sensation at the base of his neck, where the collar was, and he brought his hand up to it. Pinching it with his finger, he felt his eyebrows crease.

"Tharja… is this... is this collar vibrating?"

"Just a little bit," she kissed it again and it stopped. "I figured I would do something simple and relatively harmless as a first attempt."

"It's… kinda weird. It's not what I was expecting, but…" his finger traced the band of leather, "I don't really feel particularly plussed about it either." Still, he bit his lip. The way she said it made it sound like…

"Tharja…" he was treading in strange waters now, "what else can you make it do?"

There was that wicked chuckle that he thought he would hear from her. One of her hands trailed up his chest before coming to a stop, her fingertips gently resting against his neck.

"I could use it to help you relax your muscles if you wanted, relieve some stress," she nipped his ear and felt his back stiffen. "And on the other end, I could make you cum on the spot."

"R-Really?" That sounded like it was a lot to leave in someone's hands. She wasn't going to abuse that, was she? Not where everyone might-

"Yes, really. But it's a little debilitating, so it's for me and me only." She leaned in towards his ear, "Do you want to give it a try?"

Well, they were on a ship, where privacy was on the lower side. But on the other hand, they were supposed to be in a secluded location that no one should be entering at this time of night.

"D-Did you go through this too?"

"Of course. It was one of the first things she did to me."

"And… how was it?" He was hesitant to ask, but undeniably curious about knowing more. "Did she just… you know, do it?"

"Oh, she never just did it." She held him tight and kissed his neck, the collar vibrating again. "There was a lot of foreplay going on before it - a slow build up."

One arm slipped behind him, and there was a rustle of cloth. It then returned to his front and it grasped that red handkerchief of his, laying it out in front of him. "So what do you say? Ready for your reward?"

It's not like there was going to be any rope, right?

He gulped. "O-Okay. But… if I don't like it, will you stop?"

Tharja gave one last kiss on his head before standing up and moving in front of him. "Naturally." She gently placed the handkerchief down in front of him before moving across the room to lean against the wall. "Remove your clothes and kneel. But keep your coat on." She shot him a grin. "It looks nice on you."

He gave her an odd look, but obliged with her request. Removing his pajamas, he slipped his coat over his bare skin and knelt before the red cloth. He placed his palms on his thighs, noting that he was already hard. Perhaps all the talk and his own imagination had gotten the best of him earlier.

"Now then, we're going to start." Her gaze locked eyes with Robin. "Look at me, and try to keep looking at me. Am I understood?"

He quickly nodded his head. "Y-Yeah."

"Good boy," she took a deep breath before closing and opening her eyes. "So... how does it feel?"

Robin felt some of his hairs prickle. He took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes to try and see what changed. But for the life of him he couldn't pick it out. Taking another shaky breath, he spoke up. "I don't… I don't think I feel anything."

"Good," she smiled toothily. "I didn't do anything yet. This is how you are before any of that magic hits you. With that in mind, tell me," her voice went low, playful, "how does this feel?"

A gentle wave of magic, a soft ripple, emanated from her position, and he felt himself straighten. It was hard to describe what it really felt like. It was quite like water breaking against him, but at the same time it wasn't what he thought it would be like, none of that physicality he was expecting. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on-

"Eyes open, Robin."

He took a breath and returned his gaze to Tharja. "Its… relaxing. But it doesn't feel… y-you know," he felt himself grow embarrassed.

"We've been fucking for years, Robin, and I'm hardly a saint. No need to be bashful." Tharja chuckled and she straightened her body, looking even taller than she was before. "This is the low end of the spectrum, where it just helps you relax your muscles."

She kept her eyes on him. "Now that we've established what those two sensations are, what does this feel like?"

That rippling feeling he felt traveled lower. "I-It's going down my front…" A breath of air escaped his lungs as it continued to go past his navel and settle at the skin right below his waistline.

Her smile grew and the feeling gently bloomed, spreading beneath his skin. His body shook and one of his hands slipped onto the wooden floor. It was like a gentle fire crashing with-

"Keep looking at me."

Robin forced himself to look up at her, taking gulps of air. He felt hot all over, and his cock seemed to stiffen even more.

"Tell me what it feels like." Her voice was controlled, confident, a tiny bit playful.

"It's… It's like fire," he slowly gasped. "It's like a small fire that… it just… feels good."

"Good. Good." She stepped closer, picking herself off the wall and slowly putting one foot in front of the other. "That's just the beginning. Try to fight it." Her walk came to a stop a little bit in front of him, forcing him to look up at Tharja.

"J-Just the beginning?" If this was just the beginning, how was-

That feeling in his navel slunk lower and moved across his member. The heat going around his body grew, and there was what felt like a gentle caress across his body before a pulling sensation surrounded his member.

"Keep looking at me, Robin."

He didn't even realize that he had stopped looking. Taking in breath after breath, he shakily craned his neck, his hands on the ground.

"Tell me." That tone of voice came back, one that seemed to commandeer him without effort.

"F-Fire," he barely moaned out. "It's like… It's like I'm on fire. I'm hot all over."

"And how do you feel?"

Robin didn't hesitate to respond. "G-Good."

Very slowly, Tharja knelt down to his level. Cupping Robin's face in her hands, she leaned and and brought her lips against his. Her tongue slipped in unhindered, and he tried to push back, to return her passion, but all he could do was grip her thighs for support.

Finally she pulled back, keeping her hands on his cheeks for a moment longer before licking her lips and he shivered.

"You don't know how much I missed kissing you." She retreated back a little, keeping her gaze on him.

"It's going to become stronger now. Try to last, Robin, and keep looking at me. The longer you last, the better it's all going to be at the end." Her eyes seemed to flicker in the dim lighting. "Trust me. I've been there."

He didn't know how long he languished under her spell. Every time his gaze fell away for too long, she would remind him and he did his best to snap to attention. The heat grew to the point where he wanted to throw his cloak away, but she had wanted him to keep it on, so it remained. His neck was beginning to become sore, his arms shaking from the mounting pleasure and his weight, his body on its hands and knees.

Robin moaned, her name escaping his lips amidst sharp inhales, and he heard her chuckle. An even fiercer wave hit him and bit back a yell, his neck finally giving out. His vision slowly pulled up from the floorboard and he saw her hand gently cupping his chin, angling him to look up at her.

"Cum for me, Robin."

It was a low voice, but it was an order - one that he was too happy to oblige to as the heat washed over him again and again, each fiercer than the last. His body trembled and his breath left him as he felt himself twitch and tense under the overwhelming pleasure, his cum shooting onto the red cloth and splashing past it. Her gaze never left him, and he did his best to keep his eyes open, watching that pleased smile grow just a little wider with each spasm of his body.

When it finally ended, his body nearly becoming slack in the aftermath, the dark mage left his field of vision, circling around him. Hands twined across his body, ignoring the layer of sweat that had built up and pulling him into her, back against the wall like they were before. One hand snaked to his chin before turning it towards her.

"You did well. I'm pleased." She brought her lips to his, diving into his mouth again but for far too brief of a time for his liking. He groaned, trying to get closer, and she obliged with another soft kiss before turning her gaze upon the soiled cloth. "Made quite a fun mess, too. Nice to see that you're letting me take good care of you."

He was still trying to catch his breath, but suddenly he heard something and his heart stopped.

"... not sure why it was locked."

A feminine voice came from the entrance to the room. The door swung into the hall and Olivia stepped in. She first looked away, but a split second later she looked and saw them.

She froze, and he could see her face begin to burn up in red.

Adrenaline and fear kicked in. "I-It's not... not what it looks like!" he did his best to stand, drawing his coat around him

"Oh, no!" Olivia jumped. She began to wring her hands, trying to avert her gaze a little. "That's okay! I didn't mean to interrupt your- um… uh…" she struggled to find the right words and nearly walked into the door frame in her haste to leave the room.

"Olivia, I can explain-"

"That's okay! No explanation needed!" she barely squeaked out. "You're still a growing boy and it's natural to want some uh… alone time with yourself!" she gave a nervous laugh as she began to exit the room. "I was the exact same way, after all! I-I mean… with the uh… the alone time! N-Not the growing boy part!"

"Wait! Come back!" Standing, he quickly strode to the door to try and follow after her.

"Have fun with your um… diddling! Don't go blind!"

And with that, Olivia took off down the hall like a frightened deer, her ears brimming with red.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Great. Just great. Whatever he had in mind was now gone, his thoughts stuck on the coming storm and how he failed to account for Olivia. Trudging back to the storage room, he hastily grabbed his clothes and put them back on before coming to a grinding halt.

Alone time? Olivia had only mentioned his actions.

His eyes darted around the room and he saw that Tharja was gone. But he could sense something in the air - a panicked heartbeat surrounded by the lingering aftereffects of a hastily cast spell. Tiptoeing back to the wall where he was basking away only a minute ago, he reached forward and gently grasped Tharja's flickering hand, her knuckles as white as snow. Her spell faded away, and she wore the most worried look he had ever seen on her.


End file.
